Crimson Trials
by Splint
Summary: A new mob boss ensues chaos in the city's underground with a new drug. Tragically caught in the middle, an antihero seeks justice and unwillingly becomes the city’s last hope for a remedy. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or any of their affiliations. All the names in this story are made up. Any similarities to actual people out there are total coincidences and are not on purpose.

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Jump City Dockyards, in the middle of the afternoon.

This was one of the city's many vital locations, crucial to its survival. Over half of the city's products pass through the dockyards from almost any conceivable location. There were plenty of tankers, cargo ships, and tug boats moving about in the nearby area, waiting to be docked or otherwise.

On the shore, gigantic cranes haul huge containers off of equally gigantic cargo ships and stack them on the available spaces on the ground along the docks. All the while, big rig trucks with containers on their beds move in back-and-forth like giant worker ants. Watching over all this activity was a control tower located somewhere in the center of the whole yard.

This was the daily life of the dockyards. For most of the time this daily toll of man and machine runs uninterrupted. Few troubles ever cause total shutdown of the facility since any sign of trouble is immediately isolated and resolved. Thus all operations continue to run ever so smoothly… most of the time.

However, this was one of those days where not everything goes smoothly. There was a problem. Not a big problem, but a problem that the management could do without. While they would have loved to fix it themselves, it was out of their authority to deal with this particular kind of problem. At least they were assured that the problem was being taken care of by the proper authorities.

Namely, the Jump City Police Department.

In one secluded spot of their dockyards was a sole container that was open and surrounded by police and their marked cars. The container was brought there specifically so that it wouldn't get in the way of the transport routes and that the police wouldn't be disturbed as well in their ongoing investigation.

From a bystander's point of view, it looked like the cops were raiding a store of miniature statues of the Venus de Milo . It was true. From out of the open container, officers pulled out bag after bag which spilled ceramic figurines of the famous statue.

Minutes later, an unmarked BMW rolled into the scene. Officers that were present took one look at the black painted saloon and didn't make an effort to stop it. The black BMW stopped just a few feet from the side of the container. The door opened and out stepped a tall man.

The man was about six feet in height, well-groomed and has a nice athletic form about him. He wore a simple polo shirt, khaki pants, shiny brown leather shoes, and a light brown trench coat over it all. His face was a little gruff, with a thick mustache and beard and a head short, red hair. There was a badge hanging around his neck on a chain. Imagine every stereotype you've ever heard of every hardened detective of those classic movies.

He moved with quiet confidence about him and all the officers around him seemed to immediately recognize his authority as he walked by. He stopped right in front of the open doors of the container and looked at the piles of miniature Venus statues. After a while, an officer came up to him and greeted him.

"Good afternoon, Detective Davenport," said the officer.

Detective Marvin Davenport turned around to acknowledge the officer. "You too, sergeant," he said in a deep voice, "Is this what I think it is?"

"I'm afraid so detective…"

The sergeant picked up one of the miniature statues and handed it to the Detective in front of him. Marvin took a good long look at it while the sergeant went on explaining.

"We got a tip just this morning, sir. The initial patrol that was sent here found the container and inspected it. They also thought that these were ordinary statues until one was broken open. After that… well, when we heard what was inside the chief wanted us here ASAP. I think you yourself can understand why, Detective."

"Yes, indeed," answered Marvin.

Marvin held both ends of the miniature statue in both hands and gripped it tightly. He then snapped it like a twig. The statue was surprisingly easy to break but not so surprising once you know why. The statue was made of cheap plaster and it was hollow. As an ornament, it was practically worthless. But for the moment it served a different purpose.

As the Detective broke the rather fragile statue in two, out from its hollow body spilled forth several small, sealed plastic bags. Inside those small, sealed plastic bags was an unusual, blue powder. Detective Davenport stared long and hard at the bluish powder knowing what it was. That knowledge disturbed him.

"…Venus…"

"That's right, sir," said the sergeant, "over four hundred pounds of it has been stashed away in this one container. They're all hidden in these cheap looking figurines. Venus de Milo too, feels like a sick joke, doesn't it."

"Exactly. And who knows how many containers like this managed to slip past by?"

"We're already questioning the manager of the docks sir. We have officers reviewing all his notes on the shipments that came within last week."

"Good job, but I doubt it would lead to much. We got lucky with this one but Falcone is a lot luckier most of the time."

The detective knew well who he was talking about. Adrian Falcone came to the city about two or three months ago, no one can be sure. Unlike what most people started to think the first time he came to this city, This was not the same Falcone that was Gotham City's last 'old-school' gangster. He was the illegitimate son, mother unknown. He set up business in the city's underground and soon accumulated a lot of power to himself and now he was one of the most powerful gangsters in the city's history. And this was his latest product out on the market.

Venus in a new kind of drug that's been circulating the streets of Jump City. It had unique properties that made it very popular. It was basically a hallucinogen. It allows people to temporarily live out their deepest and most desired fantasies and have that feeling amplified ten times over. Who wouldn't want that?

The sergeant went on and explained the rest of the situation to Marvin. Already, the rest of the officers that were not securing this particular container were searching the rest of the dockyard for similar containers. So far, no luck.

"I understand that you'll follow procedure to dispose of this stuff right away," asked Davenport.

"Of course sir," answered the sergeant.

"Alright then. Once you're done with that, continue to monitor the activity around the docks. I don't want anymore of this stuff getting through and so does half the city. Hopefully, we'll get this mess straitened out and we'll be able to clean up this city before--"

The detective was cut in his speech by a ringing cellphone. The cellphone was his and he naturally reached into his jacket to retrieve it. He answered the caller.

"Hello?… Yes, this is he… I see… He what?… Yes… Yes, I'm on my way… Thank you."

He hung-up and pocketed away the cellphone. After which, the detective gave a long exasperated sigh.

"Was it the chief?" asked the sergeant.

"Worse…" said Marvin, "…it was the Murakami School principal.

"Oh… Ohhh."

"I have to leave. You'll take care of everything here then?"

"Yes sir."

"Good man."

The detective walked away with a disappointed look on his face. He reached his BMW, got in, and started the car. Hesitating a bit, he took a moment to ponder what might be the problem this time. He'll know soon enough, but he wasn't looking forward to it, that's for sure.

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The Murakami School.

One of the most pristine schools in the city. This school is particularly famous for it's advanced facilities and top-grade staff. Each student here is given the best education money can buy. Tough a little pricey, this school holds it's own as one of the best in the city and in the country.

In the middle of the afternoon, most students, who don't have anymore classes, are starting to head home. Others hang out at the schools many open spaces and relax there with friends. It's a typical day in the school and not much has happened.

Well, actually, there was something that happened a little while ago that caught the attention of students and faculty alike. It was one of those situations that really had no chance of ever ending in a good way. That said incident now leads to mostly undesired location by students: The principal's office.

Inside the office, Principal Numataka sat behind his desk in dismay. He was in one of those situations which he preferred not to be in. He was dealing with students involved in a disturbance.

Gods knew he loved kids. He believed they were the future of our world which is also why he believed education is vital in their lives. He had visions for his students and his school, building the future and making the world a better place. Most of the time, his students don't realize any of this directly but for Numataka that was just fine. As long as they were learning.

Based on those reasons, Numataka was very irked every time a disturbance is reported involving his students. He hated to see them make mistakes, reduce themselves to levels of barbarity and illogical violence. A little piece of his mind would always tell him that he was to blame for it.

Principal Numataka looked to his left. Seated on a chair was a student in uniform, consisting of a white shirt and contrasting, navy blue slacks and tie. He was of medium build, around five and a half feet in height. His face had somewhat sharp features along with dark black eyes. His hair was jet black, not too short, and a little spiky. He sat in such a way that his boredom was obvious. He had a bandage on his cheek that hid a small cut.

Principal Numataka took note of this as he did about twenty minutes ago when this boy entered the room. It was an exceedingly trivial injury compared to the other occupants in that room. Numataka looked to his right. Seated on several other chairs, some from the room and some brought in as spares, a good distance away from the boy who sat alone where four other students flanked by their corresponding parents. All the students looked way more buffer than the lone boy to Numataka's left.

Numataka took careful note of the other students' injuries as compared to the lone boy's one single cut. One of the other students had a bruised cheek, and a neck brace. Another had two black eyes, a broken nose, and an arm in a sling. Another had a broken nose, a fat lip, and a leg in a splint. The last student had teeth missing, and a fist completely wrapped in bandages.

While Numataka was irked in the current situation, he couldn't help but be fascinated at the outcome of the said disturbance. The boy yawned, showing off his boredom which earned him a number of deceitful looks for the people on Numataka's right side. The principal sighed exasperatingly.

Moments later, the door opened. Everyone in the room turned their attention to the newcomer. It was Detective Davenport. He didn't have his trench coat on, leaving it at coat hanger just on the other side of the door.

"Sorry I'm late," he said.

"About damn time!" said one of the other parents, "You have any Idea how long we've been waiting for your sorry a--"

"Mr. Daniels, please…" interrupted the principal, "Let's try to keep things civilized."

Marvin moved to stand next to the lone seated boy who seemed to show a bit of discomfort as this happened. "Can I ask what the problem is? I was in the middle of something important."

"It's your kid!" exclaimed one of the mothers, "That's the problem!"

"Mrs. Carman, please," interrupted the principal yet again, "No more outbursts, if you all don't mind."

"My kid?" inquired the detective then looked down on the boy seated next to him, "Did Nick do something wrong?"

"I'd say so," said another mother, "I mean, look what he did to our kids!"

The detective paid close attention to the other students seated a distance from his son. They all had rather interesting sets of injuries. Looking back down on his own kid, the detective took note of the bandage covering a small cut.

"I told you people a million times already," said 'Nick', his voice exhibiting annoyance, "I barely touched your kid, lady. Plus, I'm the victim here."

"Oh, and I'm suppose to believe that?"

"I'd certainly appreciate it."

"Look here you little--"

"Enough, ma'am!" the principal again was required to interrupt, "I did not ask you all to meet here in order to argue. In fact, it was you who insisted on this meeting. And since we've all taken time out of our busy schedules to be here, like Mr. Davenport has illustrated, I suggest we spend this time in a more productive manner rather than just to constantly throw allegations at each other."

"Then can I ask again what _exactly_ is the problem?" inquired the detective.

"Apparently, a case of attempted injury…"

Marvin looked down on his son. Nick, apparently sensing the glare, immediately looked up and answered an unspoken question. "They did the 'attempting', not me, alright?"

"He's lying!" said one of the fathers, "I mean, look at how bad our kids got hurt and all he's got is that stupid scratch! He's the only guilty person here!"

"Well, unfortunately for your theory, Mr. Brown," said Numataka, "eyewitness accounts from several other students and some surveillance videos say otherwise."

"What?"

"Mr. Nicholas Davenport's innocence has been proven already by several eyewitness accounts. If anything, he is the only one here who can actually be called the victim."

Nick smiled at this and his father seemed to wear an expression of relief and bewilderment at the same time. The other parents in the room were less than pleased at this news.

"Then why the heck are we here?" asked an angry father.

"I was simply indulging you," said Numataka, "You asked for this meeting sirs and ladies. But if you wanted to use this meeting to try and throw the blame at Nicholas by vote of majority then I'm afraid you're mistaken. The only guilty parties here are your children and not Mr. Davenport's."

"But look at what happened to them!"

"They did that to themselves apparently. Do you want to hear the story?"

"Why not?" Nick said suddenly, "It's actually a good laugh."

"Shut up you little turd!" said the father.

"Alright, enough," said the principal, "Let me tell what happened…"

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Earlier in the day.

In the school parking lot, students were either just leaving or just arriving. Nick Davenport, a junior high-school student, was one of the former, heading towards his spot on the lot, carrying a backpack. His classes were over for the day and he couldn't wait to get home and simply kick back and relax. It had been a long day, little did he know it was about to get a little longer.

He came up to his spot on the lot. Standing there was a white and red Yamaha YZF-R1 with a black bike helmet hanging off one of the handlebars. Something he managed to get a deal on at a used car lot. A relatively old '99 model, it was practically worthless when he bought it for the rock bottom price. When he took it home, it gave him something to do for about three months. He fixed it up new in that time and made himself a rather nice personal set of wheels.

Behind him, a female student dress in the standard uniform of white shirt, navy blue skirt and tie was leaning up against and brand new Cadillac CTS, looking at Nick. The girl had model looks and curly brunette hair and it was most likely that she was a senior. She started walking up to Nick.

"Hey, Nick," she called out, halfway to him.

Nick turned around to acknowledge the girl that stopped a few feet in front of him. "Oh, hi Lori."

"You leaving already?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to thank you for helping me out with my math the other day. Darn assignment was ripping my head open. Couldn't have passed it if it weren't for you, Nick."

"Don't mention it. Some people are just better at some subjects. You looked like you could've used the help and I didn't have anything to do anyway."

"Well thank you nonetheless. You know, why don't I repay you by… you know… taking you out on a--"

"Lori…"

"Right, right, right, I'm not your type. You already told me that once."

"Sorry, it's not you… Besides, aren't you dating…"

"Joshua's a total jerk. And I don't think I'll be able to stand him any longer as is."

"I see… but nevertheless, I'm looking to pick you up the rebound or in any other kind of circumstance. Hope you understand that."

"Yeah sure, okay. Too bad, you're actually quite a catch. Always doing people good, you're a real saint you know that?"

Nick gave a strange smile. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

As the two were going on with their short conversation, a bad turn of events was just walking up to them. Four very formidable looking boys were approaching the two. They were every conceivable stereotype for the word 'jock' if there ever were, tall muscled, and imposing. The leader, a tall blonde guy, looked at Nick in particular with a furious gaze.

He started making his way towards the two, followed by his posse which all wore a strange smile as if knowing something interesting was about to happen.

"Yo, Lori!" called out the blonde jock.

Lori and Nick immediately turned their heads towards the jock. Both immediately wore an expression that looked like the kind folks would have when they knew that nothing good will come out of a present situation.

"I thought I told you to wait by my car," said the jock, pointing behind him to the CTS.

"I was, but you took so long, I got bored," answered Lori.

"So you decided to talk to this loser?" he pointed at Nick who, despite the insult, didn't seem affected.

"I was just thanking him for helping me out with some homework, that's all."

The jock immediately looked towards Nick, approached him, and grabbed him by the collar. "How many times did I tell you to stay away from my girlfriend?"

"Actually," said Nick, with an unusual sense of calm, "I think this is the first time you ever said that to me."

"You trying to be clever, punk?"

"That depends. Am I insulting you yet?"

"Don't play dumb with me! I've been seeing you hang-out with her a lot lately, ya know. You plannin' something with her aren't you?"

"No. she just happens to have a lot of math homework."

"Josh! Stop it!" exclaimed Lori in vain.

Josh only tightened his grip around Nick. Nick showed little affect from the apparent threat and kept his cool. By now, the situation was grabbing some unwanted attention. Students mingling in the parking lot were gathering around the group and were waiting in anticipation.

Josh violently tossed Nick to the ground to his side. Nick landed on the pavement between Josh and the CTS. Nick got up quickly, showing mild annoyance towards Josh who was fuming at this point. All of the sudden, Nick felt his arms being grabbed. Looking to either side of him, Josh's posse grabbed him to make sure he couldn't escape.

"I'm gonna say this just once," said Josh, "stay away from my girlfriend!"

"Didn't you say that once already," retorted Nick, "I can see why she didn't ask you for help in math."

"You little smartass…"

Nick saw Josh adjust the large ring that was on his hand. Josh walked up to Nick and took a swing towards his face. At the same time, the guys holding onto Nick's arms let go of them. Nick was shot back and came to rest leaning on the hood of the CTS. A cut on his cheek started to bleed. Lori yelled out his name in the background then started ordering Josh to back down, who wasn't listening.

"This'll teach you a lesson," said Josh, approaching Nick again.

"I am asking you nicely now that you walk away. You don't wanna do that…" said Nick.

"Oh, yeah I do!"

Josh swung at him. Nick grinned ever so slightly, even as the fist came down on him. With cat-like reflexes, Nick side-stepped just in time and Josh's fist hit the hood of the car instead. The blow was powerful enough to create a deep dent on the hood. Josh pulled his arm back with a yelp.

In that time, Nick countered with a fist to Joshua's face. The overgrown jock never saw the attack coming and soon found himself dazed on the pavement with some teeth missing. Seeing the fall of their leader, Josh's posse swung into action. One guy charged at Nick and swung up a foot towards him. Nick hopped off the ground and mounted himself on the hood of the car. The first guy's foot hit the front bumper of the car instead, denting it. He screamed in agony.

Nick took advantage of this window of opportunity. Looking up, the last thing the first guy saw was the sole of Nick's shoe coming towards his face. As the first guy fell, a second guy was moving around and opening the back door of the car. The second guy pulled out an aluminum bat from the back seat. Kneeling on the hood, Nick could easily predict what the second guy was planning on doing with that bat. The second guy moved right next to the hood and swung the bat towards Nick.

Nick hopped over the bat as it passed by and it ended up breaking the windshield instead. Nick landed back on the pavement in front of the car and, almost immediately, became acutely aware of the third guy charging him from the back. At the same time, the second guy was just reeling up another swing with the bat. Nick was careful with his timing when he made his plan.

Just as the third guy was about to swing at Nick from behind and the second guy was about to swing his bat, Nick ducked down. The bat ended up nailing the third guy in the chin by accident, knocking him down. The second guy was in the middle of realizing his mistake when Nick popped back up and drove a leg up at the second guy's arm, causing him to drop the bat. Without hesitation, Nick drove the same foot up at the guy's face, knocking him down onto the pavement.

Then all was silent. Surprising as an outcome it was, Nick was the last one standing. For a while no one said anything. Eventually, gradually, an applause broke out as dozens of students that have gathered around the scene. Nick looked around the cheering crowd and stood proudly.

Lori walked up to the fallen body of Josh who was in the middle of waking up. Josh looked up at Lori and Lori glared back down.

"Consider this our break-up," she said.

"Wh-What?" murmured Josh.

Then Lori kicked him hard right in between the thighs. Josh let out a high-pitched squeal that could render a dog deaf. All around them, resounding laughter came from the crowd, including Nick. Lori winked at Nick and waved a farewell at him. Nick nodded in response. Lori walked away and Nick was left alone with the crowd.

Nick gave a long sigh of relief and was about to walk back to his bike when whistles were heard from beyond the crowd. The students quickly dispersed as security guards and a Discipline Officer came to the scene. The officer took one look at the scene then at Nick who grinned like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Alright," said the officer, "I think you boys need to accompany me to the principal's office…"

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"…and here we are" finished Principal Numataka.

The principal took note of the varying responses from everyone in the room. Nick looked mildly entertained having heard the story in the third person perspective. His father looked both surprised and relieved at the same time. The four jocks looked dismayed, unable to disprove any of the stories points. Their parents looked flabbergasted.

"As you can see," started Numataka, "It was these four who started the fight. Mr. Davenport was never physically aggressive in the first place and only acted in self-defense. Plus this four boys have already been linked to other similar cases of aggression and up to now I've been very lenient with them but I'm afraid I can't continue like this anymore. I'm putting all four of you on suspension for the rest of the term."

All four of the jocks and their respective parents looked dismayed. They all turned their angry sights towards Nick who simply smiled and shrugged at them. He won, they lost. They couldn't swallow it but they couldn't do anything about it either.

"Now that we're all settled," continued, Numataka, "I bid you all a good day…"

The dismayed folks promptly left the room, not able to stand Nick's company any longer. Nick watched them leave with a certain sense of pride. He and his father were about to leave as well when the principal called to them.

"Uh, Nichols, if I could have a word with you first?"

Nick turned around to face the principal. "Yes, sir?"

"Listen, you got lucky today but I must warn you if ever you encounter situations like this in the future."

"Don't worry about me, sir. I can take care of myself."

"Don't interrupt the principal, Nick," scolded his father.

"Nicholas, you're a smart boy. You rank one of the highest in your class as well as you entire batch. You're also very talented in many fields. You have plenty of potential, my boy. It's just that I don't want to see such potential go to waste. You have greatness in you but you don't seem to be exploiting it very much in the most positive ways. Do you understand me?"

"…Yes, Mr. Numataka… But I don't think it's as simple as you put it sir. I still have choices to make."

Numataka was a bit surprised at the mature nature of that answer. It seemed he is still underestimating this boy. Indeed, Nick is nothing short of gifted. IQ test rank him almost a total genius. His grades excel in all of his subjects and he doesn't even look like he's trying. Numataka knew that Nick was one of those "one-in-a-million" kinds of person. It was a great honor having him at this school and the only drawback of his excellent intelligence was the tendency of having a smart mouth.

Numataka knew that Nick was also right when he said he had choices to make. While Numataka would enjoy to see Nick turning into a master musician, a famous artist, a wealthy businessman, or an honorable politician, he couldn't decide that for Nick. Nick had his own choices, but as the principal, Numataka had to make sure Nick knew what those choices were that are available to him.

"I admire you, Nicholas," said Numataka, "I just hope you do make the right choices in the end. But for the meantime, I'd like to caution you in these situations were you find yourself to be under a threat."

"That mess wasn't my fault, sir. And I was only defending myself."

"Yes, yes, I know. I would just like to advise you that when you do end up in that kind of situation, do your best _not_ to aggravate the situation further. And when you have to defend yourself, try not to be so… excessive about it."

"Okay, I got you now, sir."

"Good. I thank you for your time then, both of you, and I hope that the next time we meet it will be on much more positive circumstances."

"I'll try…"

"Thank again, Mr. Numataka," said the detective, "We'll just let ourselves out."

Nick got up from his seat and grabbed the backpack of his that was behind the chair. He slung it onto his back and walked out the door. He was promptly followed by is father who grabbed his coat from the coat rack on the way out and put it on. Principal Numataka was left alone in his office.

He breath a long and exasperating sigh. He tells himself that he'd just done a good thing. That he showed those boys a good lesson. That all theses boys he'd just met would walk away better persons. He didn't really know about the four jocks at that point, but he knew Nick would walk away a little better. That boy was special, Numataka knew that much. And it was students like that, although rare, are the reason why Numataka loves his job so much. He wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

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A little later in the hallways.

"Thank God that didn't go as I feared it would," said Marvin. Both he and his son were walking side by side in the school hallways on their way out. Around them, students went about their daily routines sparing the two no heed.

"Dad, you should relax," said Nick, "you know I don't pick fights."

"Yes, but you seem to have a pension for escalating tense situations. You should really watch that mouth of yours."

"I can't help it. I just hate it when people stare me down."

"So you feel an urge to disprove their underestimation of you."

"Yup."

Marvin sighed. "It's far beyond me to tell you to try and change your nature but at least try… for both our sakes."

"Alright, fine… So are you gonna go work on that big case of yours."

"How'd you know?"

"You did say you were in the middle of something when you first came here. Tell me, Dad, is it about Venus again?"

Marvin immediately turned bug-eyed and shot his glance towards Nick. "How do you know about that?"

"I'm not using it, if that's what your thinking."

Marvin knew better than to suspect his own son. He knew enough about Nick to know that he avoided all forms of vices. He never smoked more than an inch of tobacco in his life. He never drank much either, only when the occasion called for it and never over moderation. He said that he always hated those vices. He would always reason out that temporary highs are only cowardly attempts to run away from ones problems.

"Then how do you know about it?"

"Five students have already been expelled in the last few weeks for using. And that's only the discovered cases. There are probably two more students using for every one that's caught."

Marvin was devastated by the news. Now even high school students are using it. A few weeks ago it was isolated to junkies on the street but now kids? Marvin knew he wasn't doing his job right if that was the case.

"This is bad," said Marvin, "even kids are getting into it now. I have to hurry and close this case."

By now the two were already outside and in the parking lot. They both went to the same spot since, as Nick found out, Marvin's BMW was parked right next to his bike.

"So I'll just wait for at home, right?" asked Nick.

"Yeah that's right. Though I'm not so sure if I'll be getting home tonight, what with the work on top of me. You'll be fine, right?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Good boy…"

Marvin entered his BMW at the same time Nick mounted his bike and put on his helmet. The car was the first to leave, zooming off in the direction of the gate while Marvin waved at Nick through an open window. Nick waved back and watched his father until the car was out of sight. He then started his bike and rode it out the gate as well, in the direction of home.

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Later.

Through the streets of uptown Jump City, Nick's Yamaha YZF-R1 zooms down the street barely staying under the speed limit. Admittedly enough, it seemed a bit out of place among elite vehicles like Jaguars and Mercedes that were driving by his bike. He didn't care really.

Most people with money would do just that, care for what other have that they don't. They would try and match their neighbors by buying something just as or even more extravagant than their neighbors' properties. Nick wasn't like that. He bought his bike for the simple reason of wanting personal transportation with a little performance.

His bike was exceedingly cheap for him to by, being a total wreck when he bought it. He fixed it up and it was as good as knew. He didn't need anything more than that. He only took what he needed and didn't care much for anything more than necessary.

He soon arrived at his desired location. A series of three, thirty-story buildings; The Skyline Tower Apartments. He entered the underground parking garage, giving a casual wave at the security guard who cheerily waved back as if greeting a friend. Nick found his usual spot and parked.

He got off his bike and went straight to a nearby elevator. As he approached the doors conveniently opened for him. A middle-aged woman stepped out. Upon seeing Nick, she greeted him. He greeted back and they had a short conversation. Nick happened to be pretty well-known around the building yet he himself had trouble keeping names. The woman eventually left in her car and Nick took the elevator to the twenty-third floor.

After exiting the elevator, he made a bee-line through the always and stopped at a door. On the door was the number 2314, carved into a brass plaque. The knob, also brass, had a slot where a card would go into. Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a keycard where the same number as the door was printed on the top part.

He inserted the keycard into the slot, unlocked the door, and entered the apartment. The apartment was generally not that interesting. The furniture was simple in design and the place barely had any decorations except for a few Japanese ink scrolls hanging off the wall. There was a flat screen TV on top of a stand, a couch, two recliners, and a glass-top coffee table in the living room. The kitchen was adjacent to the living room, as with most apartments. It had a refrigerator, and oven plus stove top, a sink and a counter with a microwave on top. There were three doors inside, two lead into separate bedrooms while the third was a closet. It wasn't much but it was home.

Nick dropped his backpack on the couch and turned on the TV. He kept flipping through channels with the remote for about half an hour before finally settling on the six o'clock evening news. He watched with hardly any interest as the anchorman delivered the news.

"—which is why it is unadvisable for anyone to ingest month-old sushi. And in other news, Plasmus has once again escaped from prison early this morning and was seen rampaging through town…"

A video appeared in place of the anchorman showing Plasmus wreaking havoc in another part of town. He tossed a car which in turn crashed into another causing an explosion. As soon as that happened, Nick saw the familiar images of five super powered teens entering the fray.

"…Thankfully though," continued the anchorman's voice, "the Teen Titans were there on the spot to recapture Plasmus but only after a considerable amount of hardship. As you can see here, the creature know as Plasmus put up a good fight…"

Nick watched as the screen showed Raven being knocked into Cyborg while being covered in disgusting slime from Plasmus. Strangely enough, Nick felt rather entertained watching the Titans take a fall. Eventually though, Robin must've thrown a freezing disk at Plasmus since the moster was completely frozen in an instant.

"…However, the fight proved to be in the Titans favor as Plasmus was yet again defeated…."

Nick, for some reason, felt rather annoyed at that news. At that same time, Nick felt the urge to get a soda and the phone rang. Nick decided to do both task by first pressing the speaker phone and not bothering to lift the handset.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Nick, it's me"

"Oh, hey dad," said Nick, walking towards the fridge.

"I just called to tell you that it looks like I'm not coming home tonight."

Nick reached into the fridge and took out a soda can. "Oh, really? Work piled up or something?"

"I'm afraid so. Look if you get hungry--"

"There's a TV dinner in the freezer and just plop it into the microwave, I know. Same drill as always." He plops down back on the couch with the soda in hand.

"Just making sure you know what to do."

Nick opened his soda. "If I get bored I'll just go out for a while."

"Are you sure that's smart?"

"The mall is only four blocks away, Dad. And you do remember what happened the last time I got mugged, right?"

"You sent thre men to the hospital…"

"And to jail!" Nick added proudly.

"I just want you to be safe, son. I'd rather you not go out at all. But I guess you can take care of yourself pretty well…"

Nick turned his sights towards the TV again as his dad continued to talk over the speaker phone. The story, and the anchor, had switched. The new anchorwoman was reporting the story now. But what really got Nick's attention was the picture of a golden really big ruby on the corner of the screen. He couldn't help but stare at it.

The woman delivered the story. "Today, the Jump City museum received a rather nice gift. The emerald shown here, known as "the Dream Stone", was donated by a Sir Robert Gates from England. The stone is the world's largest cut ruby, weighing in at five kilos and about the size of the average coconut. It was unveiled today at noon and announced to become one of the museums permanent exhibits."

Nick watched fixatedly at the TV screen as it showed a recorded video from earlier today. A British guy was handing over the Dream Stone to who was probably the curator of the museum. Around were svereal other men and women applauding.

"Nick can you here me? Are you still there?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, Dad, I'm still here," Nick said, snapping back into reality

"What happened? You got quiet all of the sudden."

"Just saw something interesting on the TV, that's all."

"Well, just making sure you're not bored. Anyway, I'll just see you tomorrow. Bye then."

"Yeah, see ya' Dad."

Marvin hung up and the phone was silent. Nick turned his attention back towards the TV screen. The news went on about the ruby's history and how valuable it was. Nick didn't care for details. He knew where the stone was and that was good enough. He smiled wryly. He didn't bother turning off the TV as he entered what would be his bedroom.

He turned on the lights and illuminated the room. There was a bed, a desk, a drawer with a lamp on top and a small bookshelf filled with all kinds of literature. There were posters of famous rock bands and action movies all over the walls. Nick walked towards his bed and pulled out an duffel bag.

He took it out of his bedroom and re-entered the living room, duffel bag in hand. By the time he got back to the couch, the news was already showing the weather. He turned off the TV with the remote. And focused on the duffel bag. He unzipped it and took out what was inside.

It looked like the remnants of a suit. First, he took out two black boots. Then, he tock out some black pants. Next he took out a black shirt of some kind with long sleeves, on the front was a familiar mark. Then, he took out a pair of gloved colored in gun metal gray, bearing the same familiar marks as the shirt. He then took out a belt, again, gun metal gray in color. Finally, he pulled out a mask.

Nick took a good long look at the mask. The mask was almost all black except for the front. The front showed the depiction of a white skull without the lower jaw. Over the white skull was the same mark on the shirt and the gloves: a slashed red 'X'

Nick grinned. His dad was right, tonight would not get boring at all. As of that moment, Nicholas Davenport was no longer just the ordinary high-school student. That persona had just left.

As of that moment, the night belonged to the Red X.

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own 'em.

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Later that night.

The moon steadily rose over the horizon, illuminating the sky in a pale blue light. The stars twinkles like diamonds littering a dark velvet carpet that is the night sky. Below, the city's nightlife is in full swing. In the urban darkness, countless other lights, dozens of time more numerous as the stars, outline the city's pulse-like activity.

While most of the activity ran below the high rising buildings, over the buildings, there was also a bit of activity that dare not be noticed. Over the buildings, a lone figure dashes through rooftops and balconies, leaping from skyscraper to skyscraper. The crimson thief of the night.

Red X.

He leapt off the rooftop of a skyscraper and into the open night air, his black cape waving in the wind. He landed on the next rooftop a few stories below the first building. With the grace and agility of the world's greatest athletes, the thief rolled off his landing and flipped himself back onto his feet, only to dash off the edge of the building he just reached.

Leaping off the edge, he found that the nearest place to land below was the street way down below. The thief was undeterred. From his gauntlet of a glove, he shot forth a grappling wire, where a small 'x' was attached at the end of it. The x attached itself to the edge of the previous building. From this grappling wire, Red X swung himself into a new direction.

At the peak height of his swing, Red X reeled the grappling wire back into his wrist. The swing had a catapulting effect, enabling Red X to clear the roof of the next building and then land on top of it. Red X did not hesitate and simply stood back up from his crouch and dashed off the edge of the building then gracefully land on the next.

The thief did this for three consecutive rooftops. Upon reaching the end of the third. Red X immediately saw that leaping to the next rooftop was impossible seeing as the next rooftop was over ten stories above the one he was on. He leapt off the roof nonetheless and hung in the air, a great distance from the street below.

With his other hand, he shot forth another grappling cable. The little x at the end of the wire shot straight up. It fastened itself on the roof's edge of the next building. Using the grappling wire, Red X reeled himself upwards at great speed. Zooming up the face of the building and eventually reaching the roof's edge, the thief flipped over the edge and landed squarely on the rooftop.

He slowly got up from his crouch on the gravel of the rooftop. Instead of dashing towards the edge like before, Red X calmly walked towards the opposite edge. He knew there was no need to go leaping off this building towards his target. This building _was_ his target. Or at least it _housed_ his true target within.

This Building was the Jump City museum. Thirty stories high, the building housed some of the finest artworks in history and an assortment of modern ones. The first ten floors of the building are the exhibits of artwork. The upper floors are mainly offices and restoration workshops for the damaged soon-to-be exhibits.

Red X, by his recent research into the building, knew that his one single target was exhibited at the tenth floor. The Dream Stone. Beneath the skull mask, Nick grinned. He pondered on how he should enter the building. Through the vents? Nah. too cliché. Through the stairwell? Probably lined with security. Through an outside window? Might cause unwanted attention.

His pondering was interrupted when a sight down below caught his attention. Looking to the side of the building, Red X spotted some peculiar activity. He walked away from his current position on the end and moved to the adjacent edge. Thirty stories below him, Red X watched clearly as three men dressed in black fiddling with a service entrance at the side of the museum.

Red X didn't have to wonder so much what they were here for. It was quite obvious. The men were successful, it seemed, in opening the door. They all rushed inside without hesitation. Red X thought about this for a moment.

These men were professional, that much was clear. They must've disabled the alarm system from the outside. They had to be pretty good if they could do that. They must also have planned this in advanced. But Red X did not have any admiration for the three men.

This was a hunting ground, Red X thought to himself. This was a hunting ground and he was the hunter. Those three were competition. And like any good hunter, Red X would not allow the competition to get away with _his_ prize. Not without a fight.

At the final thought, Red X leapt off the edge and fell a full thirty stories down onto the street. As he neared the ground, twin x-shaped blades appeared on top of his hands. He stabbed each of the blades through the solid concrete wall of the adjacent building on the other side of the museum. The blades slashed through the hard concrete, slowing down the thief's fall.

Red X landed safely on the ground in the alley. He turned around and faced the museum building. In his line of sight was a recently opened service entrance. Beside the door was a broken electronic keypad. Whoever these guys were, they knew what they were doing.

Red X walked into the museum through the open service door. He arrived inside an area where employess checks in with security. Speaking of which, Red X spotted a security guard, unconscious, but breathing, and on the floor. Red X moved in closer and inspected the security guard. The guard was old, around his late fifties, wrinkled skin and gray hair. The thief briefly wondered why it seemed that the graveyard shifts are always given to those guards who're old retired cops with some kind of arthritis. Red X got up and looked around some more. There was another recently opened doorway leading to the inside of the museum.

"Now," said Red X, "things get interesting…"

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Later at the tenth floor.

A security guar was patrolling the silent halls, waving around a flashlight. He was old, and he knew it. Like most of his colleagues that night, he was a retired cop, too old to stay on the force. He found a new Job as a security guard not to soon after quitting.

Often the guard would question himself why he bothered applying for a job like this. Earlier in this job, he was expecting some of that old action. The only thing old here was him, he thought to himself, as well as some of the exhibits. He never got any action, not in three years of service. Every night it was nothing but lonely, silent hallways. He started thinking of just walking away and leaving all this crap behind him.

His thoughts were interrupted as he rounded a corner. The guard suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of some kind of gun. The hand that was holding the gun pulled the trigger. Instead of a bullet, the gun shot forth a mist that shot into the guard's face. The guard staggered back trying in vain to fan the gas away with his hand. Eventually, the gas took effect. The guard instantly felt woozy, then drunk, then stoned. In a few seconds, he was on the floor, snoozing.

The man with the kooky-looking spray gun holstered it and waved a hand behind him as if calling to somebody. Two more guys came up to him. All of tem were wearing gas masks, supposedly to protect themselves from their own knock-out gas. The were wearing all black suits, the kind special ops would wear. The had black backpacks to carry stuff in.

They moved together pass the unconscious guard and towards their targeted prize. The three spooks weaved through hall after hall filled with valuable exhibits without problems and finally reached a particular hall that ended in a big open room. As they neared the room, they got a good look at the room's one single exhibit on top of a four-foot high podium, encased in a bulletproof, clear polymer box. The Dream Stone.

The three spooks moved into the room and stared at the large ruby. It was truly magnificent and well worth its own legend. The three spooks then looked at each other.

"What did I tell you?" asked the first, on one side, "Isn't she a beauty? Now that we've broken out of jail, we can make a huge comeback on the scene with this."

"Is she valuable?" asked the second in the middle.

"Do you really have to ask that," returned the third on the other side, "I mean, just look at it. That thing has to be worth three or four billion dollars."

"That thing's gonna be a little hard to fence. Don't you think?"

"You moron! We can't fence something like this. We'll hold it for ransom."

"And these people will actually pay that much."

"The French were willing to pay anything when the Mona Lisa was stolen, weren't they?" said the first.

"The second spook sighed. "I still say we should've robbed the Roscher Bank instead, like last time. I mean, it was so easy to rob that place."

"That's only because we had help from the super-chick. They'll be expecting us this time… Say, whatever to that girl anyway? She skipped town, or something?"

"I don't care!" exclaimed the third, "We're here in the museum, we've disabled the security systems, and we've knocked-out every guard in the building. Let's just get this over with already!"

"Alright, alright, sheesh!"

The first moved forward towards the podium and crouched down next to it. He dropped his back pack and moved it in front of him. He opened it and took out two things from inside. Both of the items looked like ordinary plastic spray bottles filled with some kind of liquid.

The spook took one of the spray bottles and squirted some of the unknown liquid onto the font part of the clear polymer box and coated it. There was no initial effect whatsoever but the spooks around the box seemed undeterred. The first spook then took the other spray bottle and squirted some other liquid on the same area. The effects were instantaneous.

Upon mixing with the first liquid, the mixture began to change color rapidly. As the color of the clear liquids turned into a rusty brown, another reaction was that the mixture started bubbling and smoking. The spook packed his two bottles back into his backpack, slung the pack on himself, and stood back as the chemicals did their work.

After about half a minute of bubbling and smoking, the chemical mixture started to disappear into thin air. But that wasn't all that disappeared. After the brownish mixture had gone, so did a huge part of the front of the clear polymer box, as if eaten away. Now that there was an opening in the box, the Dream Stone was literally up for grabs.

"Easy as pie," commented the first spook.

"Just grab the thing already!" ordered the third.

"Before anything can go wrong," added the second.

"Would you two relax?" said the first as his hand reached towards the Dream Stone.

"I would take my buddy's advice if I were you, pal…"

The sudden and unknown voice coming from behind cause the first spook to stop his hand from moving forwards. In a split second, all three spooks did a complete one-eighty. They soon found themselves facing another intruder, standing just a few feet away from them. The Red X stood tall, both arms crossed, his cape draped over his shoulders.

"Looks like my little idea of stealing the Dream Stone wasn't so original," said Red X, "No matter. I don't plan on letting you guys get away with it. It would be better if you just step aside right now."

"Who do you think you are?" demanded the first spook, albeit a little trembling in his voice, "The Dream Stone is ours!"

"Only in your dreams pal…"

"Back off, man!" ordered the third spook, "This is our rock! And we'll take you down if we have to!"

"You've got to be kidding me, right? You guys are gonna take _me_ down? If you don't mind, I've already had my share of laughs today."

The second spook suddenly pulled out a .45 revolver from out of nowhere. "Does this look like a joke?"

Red X did not move, nor was he ever intimidated. He looked at the gun from a distance and identified it as the standard pistol of the security guards I the museum. He concluded that this guy, or maybe all of them, must have picked it off the guards they knocked out on their way here. The weapon, Red X knew, was nothing to worry about. It only showed that these three would not stay cooperative for long. He'd have to take drastic actions now.

"Have it your way then…" said Red X.

Two seconds after finishing that sentence, Red X simply ceases to exist. The three spooks stared in awe; somehow the thief simply vanished into thin air. In a second, Red X appeared above the spook in the middle of the group, with the gun. As Red X dropped right on top of the outstretched revolver and the weapon came off the spook's hand and ended up on the floor, under Red X's foot.

The spook couldn't react in time as Red X delivered a swift jab to the stomach and then quickly followed with an uppercut to the chin. The spook fell backwards and hit the floor on his back. Only then did the first and third spook begin to react.

The first spook was the first to react, already reaching into his side pocket for what had to be his own revolver. Red X didn't give him the chance. With the second spook's revolver under his foot, Red X kicked up that revolver and sent it flying into the first spook's face, distracting him and causing him to drop the revolver he just drew.

From behind Red X, the third spook was about to do the same as the first. Red X quickly spun around in that direction, formed a small x-shuriken in his hand, and tossed it towards the spook's hand with the gun. The shuriken impacted the revolver and caused it to fly off in another direction. Red X wasn't done. He followed up with his other hand and shot an x from an open palm.

The x flew across the air and, upon impacting with the spook, expanded into a big red net and ensnared the spook in an unbreakable bond. Red X spun around again and saw the first spook, who was in the process of picking up his dropped weapon. Without wasting time, Red X fired another snare x from an open palm. The spook looked up and saw the snare x coming right at him and couldn't do anything about it and ended up a lot like his comrade before him.

In that time, the second spook was just recovering. The spook stood straight again and, having seen what became of his two partners, lost his temper. The spook charged at Red X who wasn't the least bit taken by surprise. As the spook was about to grab him, Red X crouched and, with proper hand placement, managed to grab the mid-air spook and toss him over.

The spook fell and slid on the ground, nearly exiting the small room. Through sheer determination and anger, the spook managed to get up again and readied another charge. He was never given the chance as Red X shot a grappling cable which stuck on the front part of the spook's thick tactical wardrobe. Red X suddenly pulled the cable back, bringing the spook with it, like a fish on a line.

As the spook came flying back towards Red X, the thief stretched out his other arm to his side, directly in the pat of the spook. The Spook was clotheslined on Red X's outstretched arm and was immediately knocked out as he fell back down to the floor.

Red X stood tall, overlooking the three fallen spooks. "Now… where was I?"

Red X walked past the three and stood in front of the podium holding the Dream Stone. He reached into the freshly mad hole in the box and gently clutched the stone in his hand. He took it out and held it close to his face to get a clear view.

The stone was every bit as magnificent as he thought it would be. The large red ruby nearly took up all the space of the palm in his hand. He could feel the weight of the stone so well. Even in the dim light of the room, the brilliant shades of red shown from the ruby giving it a sense of being coated in a divine light. Truly, a stone of dreams.

Red X pocketed away the stone in one of the empty compartments of his utility belt. "Easy as pie," he commented as he turned around.

"Freeze!" screamed an unfamiliar voice.

Red X turned around to face the hallway. He went wide-eyed as he found out that the source of the voice was another security guard, drawing his revolver and aiming it at Red X. Behind the security guard, about seven or eight of his comrades did the same thing. Red X found several unfriendly gun barrels pointed directly at him.

He gave a dejected look at one of the fallen spooks. "What did you say about knocking out _every_ security guard in the building?"

The spook didn't answer, either out of fear or out of shame. Red X turned back towards guards, still aiming their pistols. Everyone of them was glaring at him. "Give back the stone! Now"

Red X chuckled a bit. "You guys never learn do you…"

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JCPD Headquarters.

Detective Marvin Davenport sat behind his desk staring at his computer screen. It was the middle of the night and was the only one left on the floor. Officially speaking, the police headquarters never closes. But that doesn't mean that the employees here don't operate twenty-four-seven. Officially speaking, Marvin was on overtime.

He wasn't really doing it for the extra pay, rather he was doing it for the sake of doing it. Upon returning to his office from the less then pleasant trip to Nick's school, Marvin got back to work on the "Venus" case with a renewed sense of vigor. Nick's little report about a few high-school kids getting high on Venus was more than enough motivation.

Fortunately, Marvin had found plenty of stuff to work with. New evidence just popped-up, not just from the dockyards, but from all over the city. After half a week of nearly nothing, this was just the break Marvin was looking for. He stayed late in order to sort out all of it and look for connections. And after hours of doing just that, without rest, Marvin was getting tired.

So he was sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen and sipping on a fresh cup of coffee he just made two minutes ago. While waiting for the caffeine to kick in, his eyes wandered around the room, looking for something to do. Marvin's eyes fell on a picture frame on his desk.

He looked at it closely. It was a picture taken during a vacation. There were three people standing side by side in the picture; Marvin, Nick, and Tomoyo, his wife. Marvin looked over her image more. She was a tall Japanese woman, nearly as tall as Marvin. She had a nice, slender form, athletic build. Her skin was milky white. Her long flowing, black hair fell down past her shoulders.

As he looked at the image of his wife, he thought the same thing he thought nearly twenty years ago: Tomoyo was the most beautiful woman he ever knew. He realized only now exactly how much he missed her. About three weeks ago, she left for the Far East to attend an important convention in which she was a special guest. She had also plan to stay for a while to visit her family. She was due back by this weekend. Throughout that time, Marvin had only been in contact with her through e-mail.

Subconsciously, he activated the web browser on his computer and opened his e-mail account before he even knew what he was doing. He found himself about to compose a message addressed to her account. Marvin, caught awkwardly by his own impulses, had a difficult time coming up with any words to write. As he was thinking (for quite a while), an IM window suddenly popped-up.

karatechick232: I thought you'd be working late.

Marvin was taken by surprise. It looked like the composer wasn't necessary after all. He grinned satisfyingly and replied.

sherl0ckalpha55: How would you know that?

karatechick232: 8 hour difference. It must be 1130 there, right?

sherl0ckalpha55: Yeah that's about right.

karatechick232: Shouldn't you be home with Nicky?

sherl0ckalpha55: He's fine. He can take care of himself.

karatechick232: I know that. I taught him how to fight didn't I?

sherl0ckalpha55: So did I.

karatechick232: You think that was really such a good idea?

sherl0ckalpha55: It's his choice on how he uses that knowledge we give him. I trust him enough to do the right thing when he sees it.

karatechick232: When you're right, you're right. So can I ask about your day then? I've been hearing in the news that there's a little problem back there with some new drug. Do you know something about it?

sherl0ckalpha55: Yes. I'm actually on the case right now. New evidence is popping up everywhere and I'm getting close to nailing the mastermind in all of this.

karatechick232: Sounds serious. I feel like I should be worrying about you more than Nicky. You have a habit of walking into the toughest jobs.

sherl0ckalpha55: It's my job. I have to do it.

karatechick232: I know. Well, anyway I just wanted to say that I'll be back home Saturday morning. I was hoping to give you two the heads-up to meet me at the airport after Nicky finishes school for the week.

sherl0ckalpha55: Saturday morning? Got it. I'm sure Nick will be happy to know.

karatechick232: I look forward to seeing my two boys again. I have to go now. See you on Saturday then.

sherl0ckalpha55: Sure. Oh and one more thing.

karatechick232: What?

sherl0ckalpha55: I love you.

karatechick232: I know.

sherl0ckalpha55: Don't you feel the same?

karatechick232: You're the detective. You should know ;-)

She signed out before Marvin could answer. Marvin, as he himself signed out, wore a slight smile on his face. Right then, he couldn't wait for Saturday to come. Only two more days to go. Not more than four seconds after doing so, Marvin's phone rang. He snapped back into reality and picked it up.

"Hello?… Okay…Really?… Are you absolutely sure about this?… Thanks…I owe you."

Marvin hung up. He grinned. This was good news. He was making good progress now, getting ever closer to nailing this case. He looked to the framed picture one last time. His wife would arrive on Saturday, but that was two days away. For the meantime, he'll just have to indulge himself with his other love: his job.

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Back at the museum.

Red X was still in a stand-off with the remaining security guards. Red X, though his face is covered by his mask, seemed very undeterred by the guards. He stood tall, unmoving, unwavering, like he knew exactly what was going to happen. This only made the situation worse for the guards, who were sweating like crazy and shaking in anxiousness.

"Okay," said one of the guards, "give us back the ruby."

"I'm sorry?" mocked Red X, pretending he didn't hear.

"I said return the Dream Stone! Now!"

Tensions were mounting and that was exactly what Red X wanted. The more tension the guards have, the more he had an advantage. Red X knew the value of keeping calm in the middle of a tense situation. Lose your calm and eventually everything else will follow, leaving you defenseless and dumbfounded.

"You want your stone back?"

Red X slowly reached into his pocket to retrieve the stone. The guards grew even tenser, not knowing what Red X will really pull out. Slowly Red x pulled out the Dream Stone, shimmering in all its glory. Red X held it out for all to see. The guards' eyes alternated between Red X and the stone, unsure of which of them should they really be looking out for.

"Here," said Red X, "take it…"

Red X tossed the stone into the air. The guards immediately averted their sight of the thief and concentrated on the airborne ruby. The guard that was leading the pack dropped his revolver and held out his hand towards the stone and successfully caught it.

At that exact moment, Red X charged. The lead security guard never saw Red X's fist until it nailed him in the chest and sent him flying back into another of his underlings. Red X then hopped over the first few Guards and made sure to land in the center of the group. The guards tried to react but immediately became confused.

Red X was now dominating the battle field, his moves too fast to see or counter. Red X was punching and backhanding a few guards, then kicking them in the faces, then grabbing some and tossing them into others, and occasionally throwing a few x-shurikens at their weapons to knock them off the guards' hands.''

Red X grabbed onto the color of one of the still standing guards and tossed him towards another causing both guards' heads to hit each other and knocked both of them out. Red X spun around, kneeing a guard in the stomach and causing him to bend over. Red X quickly followed with an elbow to the flat of the guards back, sending him to the floor.

Behind Red X, a couple of guards were aiming their revolvers. Red X quickly spun around with a corresponding number of shurikens already in his hand and expertly threw the projectiles towards the guards' guns, knocking the weapons to the floor. Red X continued spinning closer towards the guard then managed to knock both of the out with one powerful roundhouse kick to the chins.

From behind Red X, two more guards charged in. Red X saw them out of the corner of his eye and swung both his elbows back and nailed the two guards in the chest, knocking the wind out of them. Both guards fell unconscious on the floor like the rest of them. Red X was now the last person standing.

He looked around and found what he was looking for. The Dream Stone rested on the flat chest of the first security guard Red X knocked down. He walked over to where the stone was, stepping over more than one guard on the way. He picked it up and held it to the light.

"Magnificent," he commented.

Behind Red X, the last spook he knocked out was actually getting up. The spook saw that the caped thief ahead of him was a little distracted so the spook started to reach for a revolver on the floor. Without even bothering to look behind him, Red X aimed an open palm over his shoulder and shot a snare-x towards the spook.

The spook, like his two buddies, was instantly snared and on the floor in seconds, completely helpless. Red X pocketed away his prize and began to walk out the way he came in.

"I love it when the good guy wins," he said as he exited the scene.

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In another location in the city.

A penthouse suite rises fifty stories over the city streets. On the balcony of this penthouse, a lone man stood, leaning on the railing and looking over the city in a breathtaking view. He was a proper looking man. He was tall, dark, handsome, and wore a pretty nice black Armani suit to boot. His dark brown hair was gleaming with hairspray. To counter the chilling effects of the night breeze, the man was smoking a rather expensive looking cigar. His most notable feature, however, was his eyes, which were sharp like the eyes of a panther on the prowl.

Those eyes truly befitted this man for he was Adrian Falcone. He could only be best described as a cat on the prowl. And his prey was the city, the same city he was looking over at that moment. He will soon have this city before anyone would know it. And the day after that, the rest of the world shall follow.

"Boss?" someone called out from behind him. A rather rotund man wearing an obviously cheaper suit

Falcone turned around and addressed the man in a rough Italian accent. "Yes, Bruno?"

"I'm afraid we may have some bad news."

Falcone narrowed his cat-like eyes. "Really? And what might that be?"

"It would seem that the delivery today has been compromised."

"What? Who is responsible for this?"

"Some information leaked, sir, we can't tell exactly where. The cops managed to seize the container before any of us could do anything about it."

"Was it the detective… what was his name… Davenport?"

"Actually, sir, yes it was."

"Dammit. He is becoming quite a nuisance. How many of our stock has already fallen because of that man? Something must be done about him."

"That is already being arranged sir."

"Really?"

"From our man in the force…"

Falcone grinned upon hearing this. "…I see… Let us hope whatever plan he has is going to work."

He turned around and faced the city. He took a deep whiff from the cigar. "Once we eliminate all obstacles," he continued, "nothing can stand in my way…"

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Author's note: Well, I'm back with another one. Progress is a little slow since I'm being swamped with other stuff I need to do. Here's the second chapter of my new fic. Look out for my next update where the action and lousy grammar continue! Pls. R&R!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans.

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A sunny afternoon, the next day.

It was at this time of the day when the campus of the Murakami School was at its liveliest. Particularly ere, in the central quadrangle area. Here, students mingle, chat, play, and generally display the kind of life the youth are blessed with. Some guys were playing basketball in a nearby court. Some close groups were in group study in nearby tables. Others were simply walking around and chatting.

There was one exception to the lively crowd though. Nick was on a bench, reading a handout from class and drinking a can of soda. It was his lunch break and he was catching up on a few notes before going back to class in about half an hour. He yawned as he read the papers in his hand, lack of interest quite obvious. Also, he was in one of those moods.

The soda was not helping to keep him awake. He simply felt tired, not much of bored (though he was bored) but more on just plain tired. Though there was nothing wrong with his body, physically speaking. But every time he moved, his muscles seemed to protest. He couldn't tell what the reason was, whether it may be his late night escapades last night but that never really bothered him before.

Nevertheless, he just wanted to go home, get this day over with and just ride off in his bike. He chugged the last half of is can in one long gulp. He then tossed the empty can into a nearby waste basket with perfect accuracy and resumed reading the handout.

"There you are!" someone called out from behind.

Nick heard the very familiar voice and looked to see who it was. A girl student about Nick's age walked up to him from behind the bench then moved around to the front. She was relatively short and quite skinny. Her long blonde hair was covering half her face and she raised a hand to brush it away, revealing her round face with two large blue eyes and a small nose.

She took the seat on the bench. "Hello, Nick."

"Hi, Tara," Nick greeted back.

"What's up with you today?"

"Nothing much. You?"

"We'll I finally got that history report submitted. Good thing too, today's the deadline. Did you submit yours today already?"

"Actually, I submitted mine about a week ago."

"Typical you. I wish I had your brains."

"C'mon, Tara, your pretty smart too. I mean you are second to me when it comes to the grades."

"But you don't even sweat a stuff like that. You look like you're barely trying and you still get the highest marks. How do you do it?"

"Just comes naturally. Sorry if I sound like I'm showing-off."

"Nah, it's cool. I know you're supposed to be this uber-gifted child when you were born. Smarts like Einstein, I heard someone say about you."

"I don't think I'm that smart. And I don't like comparing myself to others either. I'm just me, that's all."

"Then again, just look at your heritage. Your mom is a retired Japanese professor and martial arts expert, and your dad is one of the best detectives the JCPD has ever seen. Genetics is cool that way."

"You really think that's what is boils down to? Genes?"

"It's a viable theory."

"It's still just a theory. Genetics may account for some of the dominant features of a person. But I believe there's more to a person that his genes. Genes don't necessarily govern a persons destiny exclusively. Our genes are only part of what makes us human. That's what evolution is for. Things have to change for the better, otherwise you can't survive. People are the same; they change according to the choices they make. Free will is how we survive as a species."

"And I suppose that means you chose to be a genius?"

"No, that part was the genes."

"By the way, you looked a bit bushed today. A little too much late-night activity or something?"

Nick gave a wry smile. "You could say that."

Tara grinned. "Or maybe it was because you got in trouble again yesterday?"

"Okay, that was not my fault! Josh went up my face, not the other way around. I was only defending myself. Is that so wrong? He even had his three goons with him."

"Nothing's wrong with defending yourself, Nick, and I know your not the one to start a fight. But, boy, you sure can add fuel to a fire."

"What are you getting at?"

"Your smarts are not only in your noggin but also in your mouth. Ever tried not being such a smartass so much, and actually try to deescalate a situation first?"

"Alright, did you just come here to lecture me? I get too much of that from Mr. Numataka and my Dad, and I don't want anymore, especially from you, Tara."

"No, I'm not here to lecture or to preach anything. This is just two friends talking, ain't it?"

"If you say so…"

They were silent for a moment. A group of people passed by, talking amongst themselves. Tara looked at them then looked up as she noticed a small flight of birds. Nick was staring at the ground, bored, and wishing for this day to end, no offense against Tara, of course. The blonde girl was his good friend and classmate. They met at the start of the school year, became friends when they found out they could talk to each other.

"What's your homeland like?" asked Nick.

"Huh?"

"Your homeland. It's Russia, right?"

"I guess. How do you figure that?"

"Well, your last name is "Markov" and I was only assuming."

"You may be right. I can't really tell myself. I've already told you before, Nick, I don't remember much about my past. Only bits and pieces, never whole."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Maybe a little, like when I wonder if something happened in my past, something I feel like I should remember but can't. Even though I have some recollection, I can't really paint a whole picture. The bits that I do remember fade so quickly when I try to remember them, like shadows of a dream. But, on the whole, No, I guess it doesn't really bother me."

"Why not?"

"Well, I'm alive right now, and isn't that all that matters. Who cares who I was before? All I've got to do is keep looking forward and everything else just follows."

"I see."

"So I guess you have a point."

"Which one? I tend to make a lot of points, you know."

"The one you said about a person's life is defined by their choices. I guess I'm sorta paving my own road now. Making my own choices."

"Good for you then, Tara."

"Thanks. Wish I knew what the right choices were though."

"You can never really tell until you see first-hand the consequences of a choice. Choice is cool that way."

"That kinda sucks. And I kinda still wanna know some stuff about my past life. Just to know what I was like back then."

"Maybe you'll find an answer someday."

"Someday, maybe. Until then I'll just roll with the punches. I'm here for the present and nothing else."

"Hmmm, maybe that's why you have such a hard time with history reports."

"That doesn't have anything to do with it."

In the distance, a bell was heard which sounded the ten minute warning for the next class to start. Nick and Tara momentarily looked in the direction of the bell. They got up from the bench.

"We'd better get to class now," said Nick.

"Yeah, Ms Trogo will kill us if we're late," said Tara.

They moved around the bench and walk towards their designated building along with several other students who find that they have yet another class to cope with. None realize this more than Nick himself. Walking alongside Tara towards their next classroom, he found that he could only think of one thing: he kept wishing for the day to end already.

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At the JCPD headquarters.

Detective Marvin Davenport was just leaving. Last night had proven quite fruitful. The call he received was something he'd been hoping to here. He has been doing some digging through his underground leads (a few people with some degree of connections that happen to owe Marvin a few favors) and the call was good news. They had found something.

Marvin knew all too well that the precinct would not allow him backup just for a rumor (which is essentially what his information was) so if he wanted to investigate this himself and he'd have to do it alone. Marvin actually preferred that.

Before leaving, he instinctively reached for his sidearm, a standard issue Berretta M9 pistol. He took it from his holster and checked the ammo. He had a full magazine and one bullet in the chamber. He looked into his desk drawer. There were two extra clips which he took and paced on specially designed clip holders on his belt. He got from his chair, took his coat that was hanging off the chair, put it on and walked towards the door.

Minutes later, Marvin appeared in the parking lot outside. He made a beeline towards his BMW. When he neared it and reached into his pocket for his car keys, someone called to him, someone Marvin was familiar with.

"Yo, Marv."

Marvin looked to the source of the raspy voice. Standing a few feet away from him was a not-so-tall and rather plump man. Like Marvin he wore a trench coat and a business attire underneath. He was around five feet in height, looked like to have weighed at least a hundred and eighty. He had long curly, unkempt, black hair. His facial features were as plump as his body and that was only shadowed by his rather large prescription glasses. You'd never know this guy was actually a detective.

"Detective Benedict," greeted Marvin, "can I help you with something?"

"I should be asking that question, Marv," replied the other Detective, "and 'Bob' is fine, no need for formalities here."

"Alright, Bob. No, I'm fine. Just off to check a few things that's all."

"Is it about Venus? I know it has to do something with it, Marv. Your trying to go after Falcone, aren't you?"

"…Yes I am. So what?"

"You shouldn't go, Marv. It's too dangerous."

"Remind me again what my occupation is, Bob?"

"Look. Falcone, isn't like all the other guys we've busted over the years Marv. He's got deep connections and he could tear this city apart if he wanted to."

"Which is why we need to bust him as soon as possible. I've been on this case for at least three months now, ever since Venus started circulating out of Gotham City. I'm this close to nailing Falcone's ass to the wall. If I could just find out where he is and his factories are, I could clean up this city."

"Marv, knowing Falcone, you'll be dead long before that happens, he'll make sure of it. I suggest you just back off and leave this thing to other people."

"Why are you so afraid of him, Bob?"

"…Because I need to be."

"I don't. He's a criminal. Like all criminals, justice will find him and he will face his trials."

"Look, Marv, I'm your friend, and I worry about you. Lord knows that you're the only one in the whole force that'd be willing to take on this case alone. That only makes you a bigger target for Falcone."

"I appreciate the concern, Bob, but I've already made up my mind a long time ago."

"Marv…"

"If your not gonna help me, Bob, then don't bother me either."

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you…"

Marvin watched his friend walk away. Detective Robert Benedict was his friend and trusted partner. The two of them have accomplished a lot in the past. They have owed each other their lives on some occasion but neither ran a tab on that. Above everyone else, Marvin thought that Bob would be the most understanding of him.

Everyone has been neglecting this particular case. Almost no one would even touch the Falcone case with a fifty foot pole. Marvin is one of the few who has endured to this day. And the others before him… well, you don't become a cop to prolong you lifespan. None of these deterred Marvin from his resolve.

Marvin sighed, got into his BMW, and drove out.

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Somewhere else in the city.

If city all was like the brain and the commercial district was like the heart, then the industrial district in the lowest part of downtown was, comparatively, the city's stomach; in the sense that it is where all the incoming resources of recycled goods and raw material were taken in, broken down, and made into something the people could use.

This was his destination. A few minutes drive away from JCPD headquarters, Marvin's BMW pulled up in a rather shady area in the city's industrial district. He parked his car right outside the gate of what appeared to be a closed down paper mill. As Marvin stepped out of his car, a chilly wind blew at him. Marvin simply ignored it and moved on.

He was now standing outside the front gate, which was strangely left open. This was either good or bad, depending on how you look at the half-filled glass of water. Marvin didn't have problems going in then which was good, but that could also mean that someone was expecting company, which is bad.

In any case he had no choice in the matter but to go in. This was where his tip told him to come. Marvin was digging around for information on the possible whereabouts of the many factories for making Venus, the city's new addiction, run by Falcone's group. This closed down paper mill, according to his tip, was supposedly one of them… supposedly.

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Slowly, cautiously, Marvin made his way into the nearest building, a large factory. The main doors were closed and locked but the security door on the side wasn't. Marvin opened the door slowly so as not to make a sound. He went inside into a rather dark factory floor, the air was lit in an amber glow coming from the afternoon sunlight leaking through the windows. It was quiet.

He passed a small security booth, where a guard would sit, monitor the floor and be available if he was needed. Then he moved on to the factory floor itself. The air smelled of fiber from the years of service. Marvin eventually decided that the place was too quiet for comfort and cautiously drew his pistol and turned the safety off.

He walked down the center aisle. On either side of him, rows of large machines, designed for the manufacturing of paper, stood silent. His every step echoed slightly in the dry, empty atmosphere of the factory floor. Marvin glanced every which way he could, careful not to miss any corners.

Marvin kept walking, and walking, and walking, and walking, and walking… until he finally accepted the obvious: there was nothing here. Marvin was rather disappointed. It appeared his sources were wrong. He found that unusual since his sources are rather trustworthy by his experience. Then again, there was always the off-chance that his sources' sources had their sources wrong. It looked like that was the case.

He started to turn around, thinking if he should check out the other nearby buildings, just in case. But then he heard it. A clicking sound. And at the moment he heard that click, time froze as his brain processed it.

The sound was extremely soft and Marvin only heard it due to the fact that he had honed his hearing and the area was dead silent to begin with. It was a familiar clicking sound, something he knew he heard before somewhere on several occasions. Soon, it dawned on him, the sound was something he was very familiar with. In fact, he heard that same sound not more than five minutes ago. It was the sound of a gun's hammer being pulled back.

Time slowly resumed around Marvin as his instincts took over. Marvin dove to the side, towards the cover of one of the many machines that composed the factory floor. Just in time as a gunshot, another sound familiar to Marvin, rang out.

Marvin was able to duck behind the cover of one of the machines so that he was out of the bullet's flight path, which ended up hitting the next machine. Marvin flattened himself against the machine he was hiding behind and held his own gun ready. Slowly he peaked out of the corner. Immediately he was forced to reel back his head as another two shots narrowly missed him.

"Son of a…" Marvin mumbled to himself.

Out of years of service, Marvin quickly identified the kind of gun the shooter was using just by the sound it made; it was a .44 revolver. He wasn't able to get a clear visual of the shooter, only that he was about thirty yards away from Marvin. Marvin dared once again to peek out from the corner, provoking the shooter, whoever it was, to shoot again. The shooter did shoot again, this time firing three rounds successively as Marvin ducked again.

Three plus two plus the first shot was six shots. The shooter's revolver was empty now and he had to reload before anything else. Marvin saw the opportunity in that and seized it. The veteran detective quickly popped out of his cover, aimed his semi-automatic pistol, and fired away about five shots in the genral direction of the shooter.

The shooter himself was hiding behind another machine and was in the process of reloading his .44 revolver, when Marvin took his shots. The shooter was lucky that he didn't get hit but the shots were close, ricocheting from the metal of the machine. The shooter didn't stick around as the fifth shot brushed past his shoulder. He ran past the machine and towards one side of the factory.

Marvin noticed this movement from the shooter and followed, keeping his pistol poised and his finger on the trigger. Marvin moved briskly but cautiously, keeping his guard up so as not to get ambushed again. He reached the place where the shooter was hiding behind a few seconds ago. No one was there. In the distance he could hear the pitter-patter of rushing feet. Marvin followed them hastily.

Marvin chased the fleeing shooter who seemed to have exited out a side entrance to the factory. There was an open door on the side of the wall marked 'employees only'. Marvin came to the door and flattened himself against the corner. He peaked in to the hall way which the door leads to. One glance and the shooter started blasting again.

Marvin reeled back and waited for the shooter to stop. The shooter shot six times in succession. Marvin jumped out of the corner and fired down the hall. His shots echoed down the long hallway. Shooting five times once again in the general direction of the shooter. All but one shot missed and Marvin noticed, from thirty yards away, that he seemed to have nailed the suspect on the shoulder. The shooter staggered for a moment but soon got up and ran down a corner, out of Marvin's line of fire.

Marvin ran after him, passing several doors down the hall leading into different rooms with different functions. While giving chase, he evaluated the shooter in the back of his mind. He was no professional, that was sure. The shooter had a decent aim but he didn't know how to conserve his shots, didn't know how to take his time and lock his sights on the target. He also had a lousy choice of firearms. A revolver isn't that effective in close quarters and fast paced gun battle like this. Marvin had the advantage.

Marvin reached the corner and, again, cautiously peeked around it. The corner lead into a staircase going up. The shooter was not their and his fleeing feet can be heard a floor above where Marvin was standing. Marvin ran up the stairs after his assailant.

"No way," mumbled Marvin, "I'm not letting you get away that easily you bastard…"

After reaching the top of the stairs, Marvin ended up in another hallway full of doors leading to other rooms. At the end of the hall was another open door, most likely used by the shooter, which lead to the factory floor area again. Marvin hurried to the door, wanting to close the gap between hi and the shooter. If he could close the gap, guns would loose their value and Marvin was willing to bet that this guy's close combat skills wasn't any better that his shooting.

The door at the end of the hallway lead into a second floor balcony overlooking the factory floor. Marvin peaked out of the doorway and was immediately greeted with another barrage of .44 caliber gunfire. Marvin ducked behind the open doorway as he counted the shots. One, two, three, four shots, then nothing. The shooter has delayed the last two.

Marvin was able to get a good look at where the shooter was. The shooter was firing from an open window of the second floor control booth, which was essentially a small room that hung from the ceiling and wall where controllers could oversee the work on the ground floor.

Marvin was faced with two choices. He knew the shooter still had two bullets in his gun so one part of his mind was telling him to stay behind the cover of the doorway. Another part of his mind told him to charge in hard and fast since, for all he knew, the shooter could be reloading, getting away, or calling for some kind of backup. After about half-a-second's worth of consideration, Marvin opted for the later choice.

Marvin popped out of his little cover and rushed down the balcony towards the control booth at the and, all the while keeping his head down. The shooter, surprised by the sudden move, stopped his process of reloading aimed his revolver again. The shooter fire his last two bullets at Marvin but failed to aim properly. The two remaining bullets hit the wall behind Marvin instead, making two little craters in the concrete.

Marvin raised his upper body then stopped. He aimed his pistol like a professional sharpshooter and emptied his gun towards the shooter. The shooter seemed to have taken another it as he immediately fell to the ground after Marvin ran out of ammo.

Marvin ejected the empty clip, pocketed it away, and inserted a full. He cocked his pistol as he cautiously walked towards the control booth, keeping his gun poised. He entered the control booth through an open door and peered inside. The shooter was on the floor, bleeding and disabled. Marvin reached for his radio.

"Dispatch, this is Detective Davenport," he said into the radio, "of HQ, requesting backup at 65 Lloyd avenue. Repeat, 65 Lloyd avenue, inside the closed down paper mill. I need paramedics, ASAP. Shots fired, repeat, shots fired, over."

"10-4 detective," replied dispatch on the radio, "will send back. ETA, five minutes, over."

"10-4."

Marvin pocketed away his radio and made his way towards the downed shooter who was wriggling in agony. Marvin inspected the shooter's injuries. They weren't that serious, even if they did hurt a lot. The shooter had a bullet wound on the shoulder and another on the side of his waist. Nothing fatal, Marvin decided, since there wasn't that much blood.

"Who are you?" asked Marvin, keeping his gun at ready.

The suspect didn't answer immediately. Marvin moved closer and pressed the inquiry furthur by pressing his gun to the suspects forehead.

"Who are you, and who sent you? Talk!"

The suspect submitted. "I… was hired to kill you."

"That part I figured out. I wanna know who gave you that order."

"I don't know."

Marvin pressed the gun harder on the suspect's head. "Don't agitate me, boy!"

"I swear I don't know who hired me. He calls me by the phone and all the money he pays me is through a courier. I'm just a hired hand, man, I don't know anything. Thwy never tell me anything. They just pay me for stuff they make me do, that's all!"

"Can you at least tell me why he wants me dead?"

"All he said was that you're getting too close to the truth."

Marvin pondered this for a bit. This could mean that this guy was probably working for Falcone, or at least one of Falcone's high ranking thugs. He was getting close to closing this case, which was good news. But, due to the philosophical law of opposites, that also meant a little bad news.

Marvin remembered something his father once told him: you don't stir a hornets' nest without expecting to get a few stings. This seemed to ring true for most of Marvin's career as a cop. And now he knew he had to tread carefully. He was getting closer to Falcone but that also meant more danger to him. He was stirring a hornets' nest alright, and it was a pretty big nest.

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Author's Note: So here it is, my third chapter of CT. Thanks to all those who are reading this and reviewing. I hope you guys like everything so far. Please, share your thoughts. R&R!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm just borrowing them, so leave me alone!

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JCPD Headquarters.

The lobby was busy. Actually, 'busy' was a understatement. The truth was that the atmosphere in the lobby was none short of absolute chaos. Compared to the buzz in the lobby, the stock market in the World Trade Center looked like Sunday mass.

All over were a number of people doing a number of things that were completely unrelated. There were some officers booking some thieves, gang members, and the occasional drunk driver. There were some people who were there to file some kind of report about missing relatives, burglaries and other such things. Then there were the other stuff, like a particular old woman who was complaining to an officer that her neighbor's microwave bell was too loud.

In the middle of all this utter lunacy, there stood somewhere a young press lady. She was moderately tall, had light skin, was wearing a pink blouse, navy blue khaki jeans, brown, pointed, leather boots, and wore a gray raincoat over the whole thing. The look of her face suggested she was around twenty, or even younger. Her eyes were hazel brown, behind large round glasses and her hair was short and blonde.

Hanging off her neck from a thin chain was a small laminated piece of paper with the word "Press" written in bold font and big letters, along with her picture and her name. On one hand, she had an open notepad and on the other hand she had a mechanical pencil.

Throw in a hat with a Press tag sticking out of it and the look would be complete, thought the officer who was talking to her. The officer in question was sitting on the front desk, with a look of frustration on his face quite evident. It was the kind of look that said: "give me a break or, I swear, I'll go insane." Though he did not say that out loud, the press lady could read the exact same message on his face.

"How many times do I have to tell you," said the officer, "I can't give you that information."

"Why not?" asked the press lady.

"It's classified information. Only the chief can grant you permission."

"Then let me see him."

"You'd need a prescheduled appointment to meet with the chief, Miss…"

"Franklin, Jane Franklin."

"Right… um, look, Miss Franklin. I simply can't give you access to the info we have on the Venus case, alright? It's a pretty big case and we like to keep all the sensitive stuff under wraps."

"But it is a big case and the people have the first amendment right to know all about it."

"And I have the first amendment right to kick you out of here on your cute little behind. I can't let you in and that's final. Now, please leave."

"But I have to--"

"No 'buts', that's the final answer."

"You don't underst--"

"The door is that way," he said, pointing in a direction far away from himself.

"But--"

"Thank you for your time!"

"Oh, fine!" she huffed and trudged off, though not particularly in the direction that was pointed out to her. As she walked away, she started thinking of several words from her extensive vocabulary and found a few choice words to describe the officer in the front desk, all of which are probably illegal to say out loud.

Jane Franklin then looked for someplace to sit and found an unoccupied bench. She took a seat, and placed her chin on a raised knuckle. She estimated that she's been here for about an hour now and while she was used to long waiting since it was essential to her job, it was the atmosphere around her that was particularly annoying.

Eventually, Jane got up and left, deciding that there was nothing else she could do here and that another second in this lobby would cause her ulcers. She made her way to the door rather quickly, opened them wide, and trudged out, grumbling.

Outside in the parking lot, a familiar BMW pulled up to its usual spot. The engine died and the door opened. Marvin stepped out and walked towards the main building. The sky above him was turning dark and some stars are already visible. He trudged on, a hint of annoyance in his face. This day has turned out to be a lot less fruitful than he hoped for.

Jane Franklin was now in the parking lot and walking away from the main building. Ahead of her, she spotted Marvin walking towards her. She knew who he was and what he might have for her. She didn't hesitate in opening her little notepad and ejecting a few millimeters of lead from her pencil. She ran towards him.

"Detective Davenport!" she called out.

Marvin looked up and saw the approaching girl, and her Press ID. He immediately wished he was in a coma.

"Detective," she called out as he neared him, "A few questions if you please."

"No comment," he said flatly, like a recorded response of a computer.

"Don't be shy, Detective. Me and my audience are just curios on a few things."

"Whatever it is, I can't comment on it."

"I just have a few questions about the Venus case," she said, now walking beside him and struggling to keep up.

"It's classified information, ma'am."

"So I've heard, but maybe you can give me some answers about who is distributing the drug in the city."

"I can't. So please, leave me alone."

"But surely you have some clues to who the distributor is and their whereabouts. Can you confirm the rumor that the distributor is actually under Falcone namesake?"

"I've said this to you people before; I cannot confirm nor deny anything at this moment. Now, please do us all a favor and let the issue rest with the people whose job it is to take care of this."

They were now actually up the steps of the front door and Jane hadn't seemed to notice yet. "But if I could just ask--"

"No, you can not," said Marvin as he opened the front doors and walked in, "Goodnight!"

Marvin shut the front door in Jane Franklin's face, nearly flattening her nose. Jane then slowly walked back and huffed at the now gone detective. Feeling frustrated, She went back down the parking lot. She was practically fuming.

"Bunch of jerks," she mumbled to herself, "How's a girl suppose to save the day when she can't even get some decent information…?"

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Inside the building, in the upper floor offices.

Marvin walked with disdain up to his desk. He quickly took off his coat and hung it on his seat. He sat down and slammed his head on his desktop making a loud thud. He lifted his head and raked his hands over his head of hair, feeling every strand through his fingers. Today was definitely not his day.

"Today not your day?" asked Bob, who was suddenly standing next to Marvin's desk.

Marvin found himself wishing for Armageddon. "Please, Bob, not now."

"I told you not to go."

"I had to anyways," replied Marvin.

"It was completely fruitless, Marv. Sure you nabbed a gunman but he doesn't know crap. You're no closer to nailing Falcone than you were a week ago. You should take a break."

"I can't rest while that madman is poisoning my city. You wouldn't understand, Bob. You haven't even been here in Jump City that long."

"I'd say three-and-a-half months are pretty long."

To be more exact, Bob has only been in the JCPD fro three months, three weeks, and five days. During that time he has built quite a reputation among the police force which was initially jumped started by the fact that he was actually a transferee from Gotham city.

He immediately became one of the most respected detectives the JCPD ever had. He's been constantly breaking a number of cases ever since he arrived. On several cases, he and Marvin worked along side each other. Though Marvin still had the bigger reputation, as a detective, Bob, was quickly matching that level. Despite this booming reputation, Bob, unlike Marvin, has been very reluctant in taking the Falcone case and inste4ad concentrated in lesser matters which he did quite well.

It seemed to Marvin that the Falcone case was their only source of argument in an otherwise perfectly professional friendship. Maybe it was the fact that Bob was not from this city and is from Gotham (as well as a few other cities that Marvin eventually found out about), so he did not have the same sense of duty towards the city as Marvin himself had.

"Either way, you can't change my mind on the matter, Bob," said Marvin.

"If that's how you you're gonna go on, I can't guarantee your safety. Falcone's simply gonna get angrier."

"Then let him. Angry and confused enemies are easier to manipulate. If I'm lucky I could catch him with his pants down."

"That's only if you're lucky, Marv."

"In this line of work, luck is really the best thing you could ask for, Bob. I'm willing to take this case all the way if I have to. Nothing's gonna stop me now."

Bob sighed exasperatingly. "Alright, fine. Look, I've got some work to do. Just think about what I said about taking a break…"

Bob started to walk away to his desk, which was on the other side of the floor, very far away and out of sight from Marvin's desk. Marvin watched as Bob disappeared into the background of the busy office space. There was something about Bob that was putting Marvin off. He shook it off and went back to work.

After looking at all the stuff he had to work with, he concluded that this was gonna be a lot of work. Marvin had quite a lot of experience with overloading work. He had trained himself to be able to handle these long cascading hours without much problem. He could now easily go three whole days without sleep if he had to.

While this was no problem for Marvin, he couldn't help but feel that it is a problem for other people. Namely, his family. His eyes automatically fell upon the picture he had on his desk. His eyes naturally focused on Tomoyo, his wife, first and foremost.

The day after tomorrow, he mentally reminded himself. The day after tomorrow, one more day to go. That's when she'll arrive. That's when they'll all be together again. He couldn't wait for it. He couldn't wait for one thing to go right this whole week.

He reached for his phone and pressed the speed dial. The phone immediately dialed a predetermined number set by Marvin himself. From the receiver, Marvin could hear the line ring once, twice, then it was picked up.

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The Skyline Tower Apartments, room 2314.

The ringing phone was answered with the press of the speaker phone button. The sole occupant of the Apartment greeted the caller with the traditional "hello?"

"Nick? It's just me," said Marvin's voice on the other line.

"Oh, hey Dad," quickly replied Nick, "What's up with you tonight."

"Work , apparently. I guess you know the usual drill by now, right."

"I already ate my dinner and finished all my schoolwork so you don't have to worry about anything else, Dad."

"That's good. Well I guess I'll just see you tomorrow then."

"Just make sure you're available for tomorrow when Mom arrives at the airport."

"You know I wouldn't miss that for… wait a minute, how did you know about that already? I never told you have I?"

"Chill, Dad. Mom sent me an e-mail this morning. That's how I know."

"Oh. Well, don't worry about that. I'll be there for sure. What about you? Any plans for tonight?"

"Oh me?" Nick paused for a while. He was in the process of fitting a gunmetal gray colored gauntlet with a slashed red 'x' on it. He flexed his finger with the glove making sure his hand was comfortable. He smiled satisfied. The glove went well with his other, matching gauntlet that he was already wearing, along with the jet black Red X suit, pants and ragged cape.

"Oh, I'll probably just go out for a while," continued Nick, "Don't worry, Dad, I'll make sure to stay out of trouble."

"Alright, keep safe then. Bye"

"Bye…"

Marvin hung up. Nick smiled wryly as he fiddled around with the Red X suit. He flexed his limbs to make sure that the suit was fitting him like a custom made glove. The suit felt like a second skin to him. He looked towards the TV which was turned on to the news channel.

The news that was being reported was something Nick seemed to take pride in. It was a report on how the Dream Stone, one of the most valuable treasures ion the known world, was stolen from the Jump City museum the other night. Nick grinned.

He then focused on something else, other than the TV. On top of the TV, the final piece of the suit rested. The white ivory skull mask with the slashed red 'x' on it. Nick took it and put it on his head. It slipped easily around his face, conforming comfortably to the contours of his head.

Now, the ensemble was complete. Red X, the crimson thief of the night, stood tall in the middle of the apartment.

"Time for a night out in the town," he said, seconds before he suddenly disappeared out of sight.

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The city at night.

Red X jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Unlike the night before, he had no particular place to go, no particular objective to pursue, no specific prize to hunt for. Even hunter's need a break from the game every now and then. And that was exactly what he was doing; taking a break.

Though it wasn't a break in the traditional sense. Red X was never the kind of person to just sit back and relax. It was a good night that night, warm with the coming summer. The wind blew gently over the city, and the pale blue moon was clear in the night sky.

It was a perfect night. Red X couldn't have asked for a better night to unwind and stretch out his limbs in the most extreme sense of the term. Flying across the night sky of the city scene, Red X reveled in the rush of adrenaline this was giving him. It was nothing compared to the thrill of stealing something valuable, but for tonight it sufficed.

Red X landed on top of a rooftop of one of the many skyscrapers that littered the city. He didn't hesitate in quickly running towards the edge of the roof top. Upon reaching the edge, he again leapt out into the chilly night wind, blindly as it seemed.

It seemed though that he was in luck, as the next rooftop was very much within his reach. Red X landed on the next rooftop in a crouch but again quickly got up and sprinted towards the edge. This time however, the building closest to Red X was well out of reach over a wide street. No matter, thought Red X who wasn't the least bit phased by this situation.

Red X reached out an arm and shot forth a grappling wire towards the edge of the next building. It grabbed hold easily and Red X reeled himself up. He reached the edge of the roof top and flipped over it, landing smoothly on the rooftop gravel.

Instead of sprinting to the edge, Red X calmly walked there instead. It was obvious by the time Red x came to the edge that running off of it would be a lousy idea since the next elevated surface was actually an elevated freeway. Red X looked in the direction of oncoming traffic.

He found something that he was looking for then stepped a good distance away from the edge but continued to face it. He waited and timed himself right. With the right timing he, once again, sprinted to the edge of the rooftop and leapt off of it.

Red X landed squarely on the top part of a speeding semi truck carrying a large container behind it. The truck driver probably never noticed the new hitchhiker and continued on. Red X stood up on the truck's container. His black tattered cape flailed freely in the wind as he surfed the truck down the free way.

Red X looked from side to side and saw numerous cars of all kinds pass by the truck. At one point, Red X spotted a station wagon driving along side the truck. In front was a man in the driver seat and a woman next to him. In the backseat, there was a kid, about four years old, looking up fascinatingly at Red X. Red X looked back at the kid for a moment before turning away.

Red X looked forward and spotted the next building coming up fast. He glanced back at the kid, who was still looking up at him, and saluted with two fingers. Red X looked back at the building coming up, reached out an arm, and launched a grappling cable towards the buildings rooftop edge.

Red X landed once again on the rooftop of another building. Upon hitting the gravel of the roof, Red X immediately got up and began sprinting to the edge. To repeat the same process all over again. With every leap towards the next building, Red X relished the feeling.

He loved the feeling of the wind blowing against him as he flew through the air. He loved the way the rush towards the next edge gave him such an adrenaline boost. This is how he unwound. While other simply sat and watched TV, played a video game, drank something hot, or went into their bedrooms with a partner to do unmentionable stuff, Red X did this.

He was free as a bird. As old as that saying was, it fit him perfectly. For what is the Red X if not a symbol for the life that is untamed, free and wild, living and rejoicing in the moment. The life unhindered by the order of things. A life set by no rules. Truly, the world was his oyster.

He stopped at one of the buildings. He slowly walked to the edge and stood there, over looking the city, his home, his hunting grounds. The many lights from moving cars and open windows looked like the reflections of moonlight on the dark surface of a wavy ocean. In his mind, red X thought that this city, in its own way, was just as deep as any ocean.

"Help me!" he heard someone cry out all of a sudden. Red X traced the source of the voice down to the street below him. He looked down and found the source of the voice and its reason for distress.

On the street, several stories below Red X, a woman, middle-aged, brunette, wearing a waitress's uniform and clutching a purse, was running down the street in haste. Some distance behind her, Red X most certainly noted, four shady looking men were easily keeping up with her and getting closer. The men were laughing madly as they ran after the woman.

The woman tried to run into the middle of the apparently abandoned roadway. She stopped dead in her tracks as two more men, shady as the first four, appeared out of the shadows and grinned menacingly at the woman. Six men now surrounded her. The woman searched desperately for an avenue of escape. She found an alley just to the side to be the only one available.

The woman ran for the alley and disappeared into the darkness of it. The men looked at each other, not the least bit deterred. The followed her, not bothering to hurry after her since they apparently knew that there would be no need. They all disappeared into the alley.

Above, Red X watched silently as all of this transpired. He turned around and started to walk away. Halfway across the rooftop Red X stopped. He looked over his shoulder, then down at the gravel, then over his shoulder again, then turned around. He looked down at the gravel one last time, whispered something that sounded like a curse word, and ran towards the edge in the direction of the woman and six men.

After leaping into the air, he spontaneously disappeared.

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Down the dark alley.

The woman ran, frightened for her life, down the dark and deserted alley. Her feet echoed on the redbrick walls that were on either side of her. She ran, not really caring to where, just that she'd get away from those men. She thought that taking this particular road was a quick shortcut to her place. It was safe during the day when she used it first.

What ever made her think it was safer at midnight?

She ran for what seemed like forever before the alley opened up. She ended up in a small backyard. The backyard she was in was just a small patch of dirt with a dumpster and a lamp attached to the side of the building in the corner. Immediately, she noticed one very big problem with the backyard: there was only one way out, which was the way she came in from.

Already she could hear the maniacal laughter of the men who were chasing her. She backed away from the entrance of the yard and ended up cornered up against the dumpster under the only light source. She was a prime target and had no means of escape. She found herself hoping for a quick end.

The six men suddenly appeared out of the alley and into the yard. They approached her, their teeth reflecting the only light from the lamp on the wall above them. The woman barely took notice of a broken figurine resembling the Venus de Milo in one of the men's hands. All their eyes were bloodshot. Their heads were covered in sweat.

"Look!" said one of the thugs, "Tis it not our prey, heh heh heheh!"

The woman thought that he sounded like someone from a mental institution. Although she knew from the start that these men were crazy (being the thugs that they are), the behavior they were exhibiting then was beyond what any normal person would call crazy. It was downright surreal. She wondered if they may be high on something.

"Thy bitch is cornered!" exclaimed another one of the men, "Ha ha ha ha ha!"

"The moment is opportune!" exclaimed another.

The thug holding the broken Venus de Milo figurine put it up to his face and snorted from a hole on the side. "Praise the powers that be!" he exclaimed, "Ours is the prize! Ha ha!"

"Now…" grumbled another, "we reap our spoils, heh heh heh…"

All six men slowly approached her, menacingly. They continued their maniacal laughter as the came closes to the horrified woman who was inching deeper into the corner of the wall and the dumpster but really had no place left to fit into. In the back of her head, the woman was slowly beginning to reside in the fact that she was a goner.

"Please," cried out the woman in vain, "just leave me alone."

"Look, mates!" exclaimed another thug in response, "the swine, she speaks! He he he he!"

They continued to get ever closer. The woman was practically in tears and huddling like a scared child. She vaguely noticed something moving in the distant shadows but didn't pay it any attention. She fell to her knees and was wishing for a quick end.

"Leave her alone, you ass wipes."

The voice was new and unfamiliar to everyone in the scene. The thugs stopped for a second to survey the scene and found nothing. The woman also peeked out to see if there was anyone new on the scene but also found nothing. Everyone was silent for a moment.

"Who dares," began one thug, "To disturb our hunt? Show yourself, scoundrel, lest I stab you in th--"

The thug had no time to finish is sentence as Red X suddenly appeared out of the darkness and threw a powerful punch which met the thug's face. The thug flew all the way to the wall in the back of yard, crashed into it, then fell to the ground with a resounding groan before slipping into unconsciousness.

The five remaining thugs were caught by surprise and had a hard time reacting. It was also dark so they couldn't even see their new attacker that well. Red X was the only one their with an edge. The thugs drew out random weapons (all of which were improvised blades and daggers) in a vain attempt to fight back.

Red X grabbed onto one of the men's faces. The tug which Red X held onto reached out both hands to pry his face free. Red X didn't give him the chance and promptly pulled the thug's face forcefully in a downward direction, slamming it into the ground the way an NFL player would a football during a touchdown.

Two thugs were now unconscious. A man behind Red X started charging at him with a knife made of glass and duct tape. Red X saw it coming a mile away and promptly stepped to the side out of the knives trajectory. As the thug's arm stretched in front of the thief, Red X karate chopped the thug's hand, feeling the wrist bones breaking.

The thug yelped in pain. Red X quickly followed up with his other arm swinging towards the thug's chin. The man fell down hard on his back. Red X finished with a hard stomp over the man's stomach, knocking the wing out of him and probably broke a few ribs as well.

Three men were left. On charged at Red X from the front with another improvised knife. The man swung high, red X ducked low. The knife missed the thief by inches. Red X saw the opportunity, and quickly sprung back up, grabbing the thug by the chin, lifting him off his feet, and then finally slamming him down onto the hard dirt.

The remaining two thugs began to back off from the newcomer in fear. Red X turned and faced them. On of the thugs threw his knife at Red X. Red X merely raised his hand and caught the blade of the knife between his fingers. Red x simply let the knife go and it dropped like a piece of trash. The two thugs backed off even more.

Red X slightly raised both his hands which started to glow bright red. Red V shot both of his arms outward and shot two x's from his open palms. Two glowing x's flew through the air and towards the two thugs. Upon impact, the x's delivered a massive electrical shock to the two thugs.

After screaming in pain, both thugs fell to the ground in a smoking heaps, completely stunned. Red X was the last standing person in the entire scene (the woman was still cowering in the corner on her knees.) Red X turned to look at the woman in the corner.

The woman, noticing the dead, silence, started to look up. She saw the lone standing figure in the yard. Slowly she got up, trying to adjust her vision to see who the newcomer really was. It was difficult since the person who just saved her was standing in the dark and the glare from the lamp above was making her vision a little hazy.

Nevertheless, she started thanking him. "Oh, thank God for you," she proclaimed.

Red X didn't offer a response and continued to stand where he was ever so stoically. The woman was standing straight now, fully recover, as it seemed from her recent panic episode. She had a big smile on her face, and was clutching her purse tightly.

"You were… amazing!" she continued her praise, "I don't what could've happened to me if it weren't for you. You saved my life. You're a real hero!"

Red X slowly stepped into the light and revealed himself to the woman. She immediately gasped at the sight of his form. Two emotionless eyes stared at her from a skull mask with a red slashed x across the face. She found that she couldn't move her legs no matter how hard she commanded them to move. For the longest time, neither moved nor said a word.

Eventually, Red X turned around, his back to the woman who was utterly speechless. Red X slowly began to walk away but then stopped just at the edge of the light. He turned his head slightly as if to take a parting glance at the woman.

"…I'm no hero…" declared Red X, flatly.

He then proceeded to walk away, out of the woman's sight, and down into the alley from which all of them came from. The woman remained there in her place, dumbfounded, among the unconscious bodies of the thugs that pursued her.

"…Never was, never will be…" he said to no one in particular.

Red X went home, feeling disheartened.

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Author's note: Another one down. The usual stuff: Please R&R, all your comments are helpful. The story may be a little slow now, but the plot will start picking up on the next chapter. See ya then!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything… blah blah blah blah…

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Osaka, Japan.

If you want a quick lesson in geography, sometimes standing in the middle of an international airport was enough. In the Kansai International Airport, there is a myriad of cultures, colors, races of all kinds colliding in controlled chaos across the lobby.

Dozens upon dozens of businessmen and women along with tourist of all sorts crowded the busy lobby talking, mingling, and communicating in their own special ways. Languages from all parts of the globe seemed to compete with each other on which has the most confusing dialect. One would be hard pressed to find a quite spot here in this place.

However, if one would look hard enough, there was a quiet place somewhere in all this. In one of the twenty-six coffee shops and bars, Tomoyo Davenport sat quietly drinking a cappuccino. She was wearing a simple blue blouse, a long white skirt, and simple white sandals. Her long flowing black hair draped over her upper-back. At her feet was a large black trolley bag.

The coffee shop environment she was in was calming in that it was a hell of a lot quieter than the outside. Soft jazz music was playing in the air. There were less than twenty people along with Tomoyo; all of them were probably here for the same reason as her: getting away from the noise. Some were chatting quietly in there considerately spaced tables.

Tomoyo was sitting on a stool at a bar looking out a window towards the runways. Outside, she watched planes, more planes, and the occasional helicopter fly in and out of the airport towards their many different destinations like birds in the park. However, those were the farthest things from her mind at that moment.

She reached into her skirt pockets and retrieved a cell phone. She flipped it open to reveal the small high-definition color screen. Upon opening the thing, she smiled immediately. In the main display of the phone, behind the signal and battery indicator, the wallpaper was a picture of her standing along side two others, a boy and a tall man. They were her husband, Marvin, and their son, Nick.

She has spent a long time here in Japan. Too long actually. Even if this was her homeland, her place of birth, where her family lived, it was high time for her. Most people would be reluctant if that were the situation. But she wasn't.

Home is where the heart is. She firmly believed in that saying. This maybe where she was born, but her heart left it long ago. Long ago when she met a tall and handsome police officer in Jump City, in the USA. When they started dating each other and got progressively closer. When they got married and had a wonderful son.

She loved Japan, but Japan no longer had her heart. It was with her family, half-way around the world. So she waited, in that café, drinking a cappuccino, waiting for her flight to the USA. She couldn't wait to get home.

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Jump City, Murakami School.

Tara was sitting on a bench somewhere in the courtyard of the school. A few feet next to her, snoring away his afternoon lunch break, was Nick, leaning back on the bench. Tara was staring at an open notebook intently while tapping a pencil to the side of her head.

"Grrrrr," she growled in frustration, "Why can't I figure out this stupid problem?"

"What's the problem…?" Nick asked sheepishly.

"If 3x plus 4y is 65, and 5x plus 6y is 101," read Tara from her note book, "Then what is x and y?"

Nick was silent for a few seconds. He seemed to be mumbling to himself a bit. Then he sat up straight and stretched his arms a bit.

"seven, eleven…" he blurted out

Tara looked at Nick strangely. "Do you want a slurpee or something?

"No, those are the answers. X equals 7 and y equals 11"

Tara looked like she didn't really believe him. "How did you get those answers?"

"You eliminate one variable first to solve for the other. The substitute the first solved variable on either equation to get the other unknown variable."

"I know that. But how did you eliminate one of the variables if they're not like terms?"

"I eliminated x first by multiplying the first equation to five while I multiplied the next equation by negative three."

Tara blinked at Nick for a few seconds. She then quickly turned to her notebook and started solving the problem the way Nick advised her to. Spectacularly enough, Nick was right and Tara was able to get the solution with hardly any trouble. At first it was so hard and now it was barely an effort.

"Wow," said Tara, "you're right…"

"It's really easy once you get the hang of it," said Nick, still having traces of sleepiness in his speech.

"I should've nailed this polynomial thing by now. I really need more practice. Nick, can you help me with this stuff? I feel like I'm about to throw up here."

"Sure, anytime," he grumbled, shaking the sleep out of his eyes. He yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth. He ran a hand through his hair then looked at Tara who was now looking at him. Nick looked at Tara looked back. They didn't move for a few long seconds. Tara finally noticed she was looking a little too long and quickly averted her sight. Nick simply shrugged it off, still not fully awake.

"Um… thanks," said Tara.

"Don't mention it," replied Nick, "Why are you so studious lately anyways?"

Tara looked at Nick like he was from another planet, "Um hellooooo… Final Exams are next, next week."

Nick looked a bit baffled for a second then had an expression of realization. He looked up to the sky and rubbed his chin with one hand. "Oh yeah…"

Tara sweatdropped. "You don't even care, do you?"

"I do, really," Nick replied in the most insincere voice possible.

Tara sighed. "That's typical you; not even bothering to worry. You know, some of us don't have genius IQ's."

Nick chuckled a bit. "And that's typical you too, complaining about everything."

"I'm not complaining. I'm pointing out inconveniences."

"And the difference is…?"

"Complaining is for selfish reasons."

"What is so inconvenient about me anyways? What did I ever do to you?"

"It's nothing you did. It's just that I feel so dumb around you. And that really annoys me."

"Well excuse me for living. Why does it annoy you so much anyway?"

"I don't know. Gives me a kinda sense that I used to be a lot smarter at some point in my past and all that knowledge just went up and away all of a sudden."

"Mm-hmm, I see."

"You're the reason I'm feeling so down, so you're gonna help me with my studies for the rest of the term. Got me, Nick?"

"Yeah sure th—Hey!"

"If I fail any of my exams, I'm blaming you."

"Hey, wait a minute! What about my say in all this?"

At that moment, two girls, a black girl and a redhead, called out Tara's name. Nick and Tara looked towards the two girls who were waving at Tara to come to them. Tara smiled back at them along with a wave. She then looked back at Nick with a wry smile.

"Listen, I gotta go," she blurted out in high speed, "Study group and all. See ya later, Nick. Bye."

Tara quickly got up, gathered her stuff , and left after the two girls. Nick was left on the bench with a dumb look on his face. He tried to call out to her but Tara was already out of earshot. Nick made a fist and gnawed his teeth.

"Darn her, she got me again," he said, "And I thought the Titans were a headache…"

As Nick stood there alone, a drop of water hits his shoulder. He noticed and felt his shoulder with his hand. He looked up. Tiny droplets of water began falling from the sky, which was turning into a dark grayish color by then.

"Rain…" he said unconsciously.

Already around him, students began filling into the school buildings as more drops come down from the sky. Nick, however lingered for a while, standing in his spot by the bench looking up into the graying clouds. It was just rain, he knew that much. But, deep inside of him, he felt sick, disheartened, lost. He felt like something bad was happening, and he didn't know what.

The feeling passed as quick as it had come. Nick was confused for a little bit but eventually came back to his senses. He picked up his stuff from the bench and went inside. The rain continued to fall.

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In the Clear Springs Hotel, uptown Jump City.

Jane Franklin was inside her personal room, sitting on the bed, a laptop computer placed in front of her. Her rain coat was on the side and she was dressed in her same blouse and jeans. In the back ground, the TV was turned on to the afternoon news broadcast but she paid little to no attention to it although she seemed to be keeping an ear out incase she hears certain keywords she was interested in.

She was mostly concentrated on her Laptop Computer which she placed in front of her. On the screen, dozens of files of unknown origin or purpose flashed continually back and forth. Jane seemed to be scanning the files in search for specific information. Typing away at the keyboard and clicking away at the touch pad

Beside the laptop were her notepad and mechanical pencil. She took the pad, opened it up and browsed through her notes. She also grabbed her pencil and started jotting down new stuff on an empty page. She then dropped her note pad and pencil back down on to the bed and started typing away at the computer again.

The news in the background continued but received no attention. It went on with the usual reports about political issues, sports issues, weather, and the like. It seemed that nothing interesting was happening except for one report saying that a particular thief has broken into the Jump City Museum and stolen something. Jane gave it little attention since it wasn't something she was interested in.

She kept on typing and clicking for a long time, browsing through new sets of files every once and a while. At one point she suddenly stopped. She blinked at her screen, which displayed a particular file which seemed to have caught her interest. She gave it a scrutinizing look the way a mother looks at a chilled with a secret.

"Wait a minute…" she said in a soft voice.

At that point the news moved to another report. The anchorwoman said something that apparently caught her ear. Jane immediately turned her head and faced the TV screen. The anchor woman continued on with the news report.

"In other news," said the anchorwoman, "the body of a police officer was found dead early this morning in an alley downtown…"

The news went on and Jane listened to it intently. She then looked back onto her screen apparently seeing some kind of connection between the news and the file she was reading at that moment. The news anchor went on about the officer's name rank and how the family grieved but that was all but irrelevant to Jane. She was waiting for specific information.

"—and according to police investigators, the cause of death was a knife stab to the back of the officer's head, piercing the medulla of the brain.

Bingo!

With that last bit of information, Jane Franklin's eyes lit up. It was the crucial bit of information she was waiting for. She looked back the file she was reading and the connection, whatever it may be that she saw, was crystal clear.

Jane's expression suddenly turned with realization. She now wore an expression of worry. Though she wanted to confirm this information, it meant something foreboding was happening. Something bad was about to happen or was already happening at that moment.

"This is bad…" said Jane, "…God help him…"

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On the streets of Jump City.

As the rain got a little stronger, a familiar BMW drove down the highway, its M3 engine roaring with power. Marvin was inside and behind the wheel looking mildly awake. It's been over two straight days without sleep. In the past he's gone longer than that but it was more of the frustration that was really getting to him.

He like to sometimes take a drive out on the town. Driving around the city always cleared his head. It wasn't the car ride itself that was relaxing him, but the sights of the city around him did most of the calming. It was definitely not the car.

His car, a BMW M3, was something he neither loved nor hated and it was not his first choice for an automobile. It was mostly his wife and son's choice. Nick was a performance junkie in a sense; Marvin knew that much from his choice of buying his motorcycle. Tomoyo, being the kind of woman that she was, wanted a little excitement in their lives.

The BMW M3 was a sports car at heart and Marvin didn't really like sports cars. Though on one or two occasions, Marvin was kind of thankful for the high performance of the car in a couple of high-speed chase scenarios. But, in essence, he wanted an SUV.

None of that mattered now anyway. That little bit of frustration left him long ago and the new source of frustration for him now was his current case. Marvin knew from experience that all cases like this was essentially finding a needle in a haystack. What makes the cases easier or harder was the size of the haystack. Marvin was practically swimming in this haystack.

Moments passed without incident as Marvin drove down the highways in silence. Slowly, his nerves were getting a little bit more relaxed. This gave him time to think about a few things. At that moment, his cell phone, which was placed on a holder hooked onto the center console, began to ring. Marvin automatically answered it by turning on the loudspeaker (he was driving after all.)

"Hello?" he asked.

"Marv, it's me," Bob's familiar voice answered.

"Bob? Why are you calling me now?"

"I have some info for you. Are you busy right now?"

"No, I'm not. What is it that you have for me? Though I can't guarantee I'll be interested, Bob."

"Oh, you'll be interested. I just nailed a guy for shoplifting. I have him in cuffs and I have some backup looking over him. Coincidentally, he's offering us info on Falcone in exchange for a little amnesty…"

To this, Marvin paid his full attention. "What?"

"Yeah, this guy's already given me some real cheesy information. I figured you'd like a few statements yourself, Marv. Well, are you interested?"

"…Where are you?"

"400 Rudolf street, the old warehouse district. We're inside warehouse four, trying to keep dry. It's really pouring out there…"

"Yeah, it is…"

"Anyway, how soon can you get to us?"

"I'll be there in five minutes."

"Okay. See you then."

Bob hang up. Marvin found the nearest exit off the highway and took it. He drove quickly to the designated location. Outside his windows, the rain poured.

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Inside warehouse four.

Detective Robert Benedict, or Bob to his colleagues, hung up his call. He briefly grinned. The warehouse was bare, filled with nothing but old rotting wooden boxes stacked on top of each other in heaps of rotting wood. The air was stale and smelled of dead rodents. The rain outside was drumming heavily on the steel roof of the warehouse.

Despite what Bob said, he was the only cop there. No backup was present and neither was suspect he was talking about.

Bob held up his cell phone once again. He dialed a new number. He then pressed the phone to his ear. The phone rang three times before it was answered.

"It's me… yes I am… he's on his way as we speak. He doesn't suspect a thing… everything has been prepared… yes, he's here with me…"

Bob momentarily looked towards a darker part of the warehouse. He seemed to be looking at an invisible figure. For a moment there was a glint of something coming from the darkness but nothing more. Bob grinned at whatever, or whoever, he was looking at then turned his attention back on his phone call.

"Yes, sir... I understand sir, no more mistakes…as you say, Mr. Falcone…"

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Minutes later.

Marvin's BMW arrived at the designated location. He parked right in front of the warehouse. He opened his door and stepped out. The rain, though strong by then, did little to bother him. He had a look that he was used to this sort of weather and simply didn't care.

Marvin looked to see that the front door of the warehouse was open. He eyed it for a moment, as if contemplating whether to go in or not. Although he knew he was going in anyway, he still had inhibitions. He shook them away and entered.

First thing he did, when he entered was to cover his nose. The stench of rotten wood was being amplified by the humidity coming from outside the door. He moved forward to where the smell of the air was more bearable. While walking, he noticed something strange: no one was here.

"Hello?" he called out. No one responded.

At the back of his head, a voice of reason was telling him that something was wrong. Instinctively, he began to reach his hand into his coat.

"Bob?" he called out again. Still, no answer.

His hand reached all the way into his coat then he pulled out his pistol. He raised it at waist level, keeping his finger off the trigger for the meantime. Feeling vulnerable, Marvin continued to walk deeper into the warehouse.

"Bob!" he called out one last time.

"Over here," replied Bob's voice.

Marvin heard the reply and moved towards the sound of Bob's voice. Eventually, he saw Bob standing in the middle of some heaps of broken wooden boxes. There was something in the way Bob stood that made Marvin very uncomfortable. More alerting was the fact that Bob was the only one, other than Marvin himself, was present in the warehouse.

"Bob?" started Marvin, "what's going on? Where is everybody?"

Bob let out a long sigh. "I'm really sorry Marv."

"…about what?"

"Try to understand that neither of us wants this. I tried to warn you to stay away from the case, Marv. No there's no turning back. You're becoming a real pest and we don't like that anymore."

For a while, Marvin looked a bit baffled. But as soon as realization sank in, he immediately raised his pistol and aimed it at Bob. Bob was not the least bit deterred and kept his stance. Marvin's face turned frightfully angry.

"So, it was you who killed that other cop this morning!"

"Me?" Bob actually looked insulted by that, "oh no… I don't like getting my hands dirty like that."

"But you're responsible for it!"

"If you mean that I was the one who arranged for the guy to be… taken care of… then yes, I did do that much. It's my job."

"How long have you been working for Falcone?"

"Since the Gotham City, and little before that as well. Falcone needed someone to make sure that the cops would stay out of his way. For the most part, I simply make sure that any investigation towards Falcone would stop by destroying incriminating evidence. Sometimes it's that easy. But…"

"But what, Bob?"

"There is always somebody like you, Marv. Somebody who doesn't know when to simply quit while they're ahead. For guys like you, I have to go an extra mile, if you know what I mean."

"But I thought you don't like to get your hands dirty?"

"Oh, I have him for that…"

Bob made a motion with his chin which indicated to someone behind Marvin. Marvin kept his gun trained on Bob while slowly looking over his shoulder. There was a figure standing there, some ten yards away. Marvin 's eyes widened. He wondered how the hell that guy got there without even making a sound.

The figure was that of a tall Caucasian man, about five and a half feet in height of average looking build. The man wore a nice looking black suit with black pants, and shiny black leather shoes, black leather gloves, a long white scarf around his neck and a white shirt underneath his suit. All of this was topped off with a black fedora hat which covered some of the man's face.

The man slowly lifted his head to reveal a pair of dark gray emotionless eyes. Marvin felt a pang of fear that he hadn't felt in years. Marvin immediately pulled away his aim from Bob and towards the new stranger.

Marvin was surprised to see the new stranger close the distance between them in an instant. The stranger quickly struck Marvin's hand, causing the detective to yelp in pain then drop his gun onto the cold floor. The stranger's other hand flew into Marvin's gut.

The force of the second hit caused Marvin to fall on his back, clutching his stomach. The stranger stood over him stoically. Marvin collected himself quickly enough and stood up once again. After he got Back on his feet, Marvin threw a fast punch towards the stranger. It wasn't fast enough as the stranger simply sidestepped causing Marvin to miss entirely.

The stranger countered by quickly kneeing the detective in the stomach, causing Marvin to stumble backwards a bit. The stranger then calmly walked towards Marvin, not looking the least bit worried about repercussions.

The stranger threw a backhand at Marvin's face. It seemed slower than the last few hit and Marvin actually managed to block the attack with both his arms raised. His was just a ploy however as the stranger quickly kicked the bottom halves of Marvin's legs causing him to fall to his knees unexpectedly.

While Marvin was on his knees, the stranger delivered a quick kick to Marvin's chin. Marvin flew back from the impact and landed on the flat of his back. The stranger slowly walked to Marvin's side, staring down stoically at the fallen detective. Marvin, was glaring back up at the stranger's eyes with their dark, cold, gray irises. The stranger wasn't the least bit intimidated

The stranger raised a foot and hovered it over Marvin. Marvin saw it coming and immediately rolled away from the stranger as his foot came down and created small cracks on the aging floor. Marvin continued rolling for a while, making sure to get good distance between him and the stranger.

Marvin soon got back up onto his feet and faced the stranger, who was already charging towards him. Marvin raised his fist to try and hit the incoming stranger. Marvin missed again as the stranger simply ducked to the side.

Marvin awkwardly stumbled forward. The stranger grabbed hold of Marvin's arm. With unnatural strength, the stranger tossed Marvin over his shoulder and sent the detective crashing into pile of rotting wooden boxes. Dozens of unused and broken down wooden boxes imploded on Marvin, kicking up dust and moss.

Marvin was down for a few seconds before he sluggishly pulled himself from the mess. As soon as Marvin managed to pull himself to his feet again, the stranger was already in front of him. Marvin, could not see nor believe the man's godlike speed, so he couldn't do anything to defend himself.

The stranger began beating the living daylights out of Marvin then and there, his fist moving like lighting strikes and hurting as much. Marvin tried raising his arms a few times but found that the efforts were in vain.

The stranger suddenly stopped his onslaught and simply stared at Marvin for some time. Marvin stood there unmoving. He couldn't even if he wanted to. The stranger suddenly grabbed onto Marvin's collar and tossed him over his shoulder.

Marvin flew across the air for a good distance before landing hard on his side and rolling for a good distance more. Marvin stopped rolling, flat on his stomach. He started coughing out blood. He knew he was loosing. Marvin looked up for a moment and spotted his gun on the floor.

Marvin summoned whatever strength he had left to crawl towards the weapon. His arm stretched out, vainly trying to reach the weapon that seemed like a thousand miles away at that time. Then, something silvery fell from above.

"Aaaaaaarrrrgggghhhh!" Marvin's agonizing scream echoed throughout the mostly empty warehouse.

He looked up to see where the sudden pain had come from. Marvin saw that a dagger with an old-fashioned wooden handle and silver hilt had pierced his hand from the top and effective nailed his hand to the floor. From the side, the stranger came into view.

The stranger calmly walked past Marvin and kicked the gun away, well out of Marvin's reach. The stranger then stood there, overlooking the detective. Marvin supported himself on his knees. He grabbed at the wooden handle of the dagger impaling his hand. He forcedly yanked out the weapon. Blood came rushing out of his now useless palm.

He held the dagger with his other hand and stood up. Breathing heavily and getting dizzy, the detective was running out of options fast. Marvin looked at the stranger, who looked back unfeeling. In sheer desperation, Marvin charged in with the dagger at hand.

The stranger quickly raised a palm of his own in the path of the oncoming dagger. The dagger impaled the stranger's palm and went all the way through. The blade went no further and the stranger didn't show an once of discomfort to which Marvin's eyes went wide.

The stranger's other hand formed a fist and rammed itself onto Marvin's shoulder blades, both of them almost simultaneously (such was the stranger's amazing speed), Marvin fell to the floor on his back again. Both his arms were numb. His shoulder's were dislocated. The stranger stood over him, slowly pulling out the dagger from his palm. Not an ounce of blood came out of the wound.

"Stop struggling, Marv," said Bob all of the sudden, "You can't beat him. He is, after all, the Silencer. One of Mr. Falcone's more… interesting employees."

The Silencer, as he is apparently called, moved closer to Marvin, grabbed onto the back of his collar, and pulled the helpless detective up on his knees. Marvin soon felt the cold tip of the dagger stinging the back of his head.

"Don't worry, Marv…" continued Bob, "…it'll be quick and it wont hurt."

"…This…" suddenly spoke up Marvin, "… is far… from over, Bob…"

"Yes it is. For you, it's over, Marv."

"But not for you, Bob… not by a long shot."

"Tsk, whatever man."

Bob reached into his pockets and took out a cigarette and a lighter. Marvin, in his most pathetic state, starred at the dirty cop in disgust. He didn't despair though. He knew, deep inside, that Bob will get what's coming to him, one of theses days. Bob will face his trials, like they all will, someday.

Bob blew out a long puff of smoke. He then nodded towards Silencer who nodded back. Marvin could feel the cold blade penetrating his skin. He was thankful, at least, that it was quick and painless.

His very last thoughts were about his family.

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Author's note: Well, I did classify this fic as a tragedy. As usual, if you have any comments, suggestions, violent reactions, just press the little blue button and type away. 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or anything else from the TV.

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On the streets of Jump City.

Nick was zooming down the uptown roads on his bike. He was on his way home. Above him, the sky was still covered in a blanket of dark gray clouds but the rain has stopped almost half-an-hour ago. Around Nick, the usual traffic harmoniously flowed as if it was the city's blood supply. Everything was the same as it always was.

Nick observed all of this. Everything was normal today, he thought to himself. Nothing was different.

It's been a long day and Nick wanted to get home quickly. He was actually late leaving school. Somehow Tara managed to convince Nick to stay a while and help her with her study group. While the rest of the group regarded Nick with a certain degree of intimidated caution, Tara was the only one indifferent to Nick and managed to get things going.

The session only lasted an hour and a half. Nick felt like it lasted four times that. Thanks to Tara, he found himself unwittingly tutoring a bunch of other girls about the complexities of polynomial equations. While everyone else in the group got a lot out of the session, all Nick got was more tired.

After the session, Tara managed to have Nick agree to meet them on a regular basis for the rest of next week till the final exams themselves. When and how that agreement was made was a mystery beyond Nick at that moment. But, in truth, he couldn't care less. There were better things to look forward to.

His mom will be arriving the next morning. This was definitely something he was looking forward to. As far as Nick is concerned, she was gone way too long. He would be glad to have her home again. As if to show his anxiousness Nick sped up, on his way home.

He reached the Skyline Tower Apartments in due time. He waved to the security guard as he usually did everyday when he entered the parking garage. He rode down the ramps and reached his usual spot, right next to his dad's. Nick found the spot to be empty, which was normal. Dad was probably working a little late again.

He went towards the elevator and took his usual ride up to his floor. He was alone in the elevator that day. Usually this never bothered him, but to day, the silent atmosphere inside the elevator seem disturbing. The ride felt longer than usual even though it wasn't in reality. Nick couldn't explain why he felt that way and he couldn't wait for the doors to open.

Eventually, the elevator reached his floor without making any stops along the way. He exited the elevator and made his way down the same ordinary halls, passing the same doors of his neighbors. On his way down the halls, he met a few of his neighbors. He greeted them as he normally would and they greeted him back. Nothing was unusual there.

Everything was normal today, he thought to himself again. It was the same old boring thing after another, same as every other day. Today was a normal day.

Nick walked down the halls, making turns where he should, until he was only a few steps from his door. About ten yards from the door he noticed something unusual. The door to his apartment was open. He was sure that his dad was not home, the car wasn't in the garage. So who was in his place right then?

Upon making that thought, a janitor of moderate age walked out of the open doorway. The janitor was someone Nick, as well as most tenants, knew quite well. The janitor stepped out into the hallway and stretched his limbs. He caught Nick out off the corner of his eye and immediately turned to him.

"Oh, hey there, Nick," said the janitor, "didn't see you there, boy…"

"Carl," said Nick, "what were you doing in there? You know it's against policy to enter our places without permission."

"Oh, I know that."

"Then what were you doing at our place?"

"Well, I was asked to open up the door. It seems you've got some 'official' company."

Nick raised as eyebrow. "What? Who?"

Carl, the janitor, shrugged. "Friends of you dad I suppose"

"Friends of my… They're cops?"

Carl nodded. "Yup"

Nick raised his eyebrow a bit higher. What were cops doing in their place? It was certainly something he wasn't expecting. He lingered on that question for a few moments not really coming up with anything plausible.

Carl, the janitor, excused himself and started to walk away, saying that he had work to do somewhere else. Nick lingered in the hallway for a while before walking a bit closer to his door. He could hear voices from inside. He could hear only two voices coming from inside the apartment, one of which seemed familiar to him. He didn't go in immediately and instead decided to listen for a bit.

"It looks like there's nothing suspicious here," said the unfamiliar voice.

"That seems right," replied the familiar voice, "But he's not here either."

"If he's not here, then he'll probably still be at his school, sir."

"Yeah, probably…"

"You want me to call in another unit, sir?"

"No, I'd rather see him myself. We'll drive down there if we must."

It was then that Nick realized that they were talking about him. They were looking for him, that much was already clear. The question of why they wanted to find him was still up for answers. Nick momentarily fantasized that they must've falsely accused him of some heinous crime and that he should run for his life while at the same time secretly hunt for clues in the dark underground to prove his innocence.

He didn't run, of course. He decided to simply press the matter. He stepped through the doorway and met his two unexpected visitors. The two cops who were already inside the apartment noticed him moments after he walked in and had a rather surprised look on each of their faces.

Nick identified them. One was a regular patrolman in full uniform whom Nick hadn't seemed to have met yet. The other officer was none other than the chief of police. Nick knew who he was. Chief William Bartlett was a close friend of Nick and his dad.

Chief Bartlett was a rather heavily built black man. He was over six feet tall with a toned body of athletic quality. His facial hair was cut into a goatee and the very curly hair on his head was forming into a nice little afro. He was wearing a formal business ensemble consisting of light brown pants and jacket and a white shirt underneath. He had gators on his feet and some small bits of jewelry to show a little eccentricity.

"Nick?" asked the Bartlett, "What are you doing here?"

"I live here…" Nick answered flatly.

"Oh, yeah, right. I almost forgot about that."

"Right… Hold on, I'll get you guys a drink…"

Nick walked to the kitchen, dropping his backpack near the door way. He opened the fridge and pulled out two cans of soda and tossed them at the two officers who caught them awkwardly. He then took one for himself, opened it and started drinking from it.

The Two officers stared blankly at their drinks. Bartlett shook his head and placed the drink down on the nearby coffee table. The patrolman in uniform did the same thing and quietly stood behind the chief. Nick eyed them curiously. Obviously, this wasn't a social call. Though he knew the chief quite well, Nick was still rather uncomfortable with them here for some reason.

"Look, Nick," said Bartlett, "what did you do all day?"

Nick looked at Bartlett like he just asked the dumbest question ever. "Um… school for one thing. I am fifteen after all."

"So, you didn't go anywhere else today."

"No, just school. In fact I stayed there a little longer than I'd hope to."

"Oh, I see…"

Nick was getting annoyed. He felt the same as the time when he was accused of mixing the hot sauce in the punch bowl during the policeman's ball some years back. He hated when everyone started interrogating him, kept asking him questions. He never liked it… despite the fact that it was him who mixed the hot sauce into the punch bowl.

"Look," said Nick, "what are you accusing of this time."

"Huh?" Bartlett looked somewhat baffled.

"With the way you're interrogating me, you make it sound like I just killed someone."

Bartlett cringed at that. "No, I just wanted to make sure you were safe, that's all."

"Any reason I shouldn't be?"

"Well…uh…"

The chief seemed to hesitate. Nick took another sip from his can of soda while keeping an eye on the chief. The patrolman behind Bartlett seemed to want to keep quite but the expression on the patrolman's face was telling a story which Nick was picking up on. He didn't like where this was going on.

"Chief," said Nick, "Just tell me already. What is going on?"

"Nick…"

"There's something I need to know. And you need to tell me, I can see it in your faces. What happened that it would make you worry about me all of a sudden like this? If I'm a part of whatever this is I deserve to know."

The chief of police was very hesitant at that point. He looked to be contemplating a few options. Nick was getting impatient. Then the chief took a deep breath, as if to prepare himself for an ordeal, and started to speak. Nick listened intently, following every detail.

"Some hours ago, your father received a call, we can't tell who. It directed him to this place in the old warehouse district. We can't tell exactly what happened there but…"

Nick narrowed his eyes at the chief. His mind was already processing the information. Slowly, his mind started constructing a scenario.

"As far as we can tell," continued Bartlett, "he was given some kind of tip on the Venus case. He took it without consulting anybody for some reason. We don't know who sent the tip, exactly, but we can now tell it was an illegitimate source. Your father fell into a trap and…"

By then, Nick's lips started quivering. His eyes were growing wider. Realization was hitting him like oncoming car. He started figuring out stuff, like why the chief would think something happened to him and would visit their place himself.

"It was a while," continued Bartlett, "before someone reported the incident. By the time we got there it was…"

Bartlett hesitated when he saw Nick's eyes. They were wide. Slowly, the can of soda that Nick was holding onto slipped from his hand and fell to the floor, spilling soda everywhere. The chief saw in Nick's eyes the look of utter shock and disbelief. Nick was frozen like a statue, with every breath he took looking like a struggle.

"Nick…" continued the chief, "I'm sorry… we couldn't…. there was no way…"

"You're joking right?"

"I wish… I wish there was another way to…"

"It's not true."

"Nick, please listen to me."

"Stop messing with me, Chief. If this is suppose to be a joke, I'm not laughing!"

"Calm yourself down."

"It's not true, godammit! He promised he'd come to the airport tomorrow! Mom's coming home in the morning and he promised to be there! This wasn't supposed to happen! He--"

Nick forced himself to stop. The logical part of his mind told him to stop, that he was wasting his breath. The bigger part of his mind told him to keep screaming, keep saying that its not true, and maybe, when his lungs would explode, it will cease to be true and everything would be alright.

Nick tried to force it with his mind. His dad couldn't be dead. He didn't have to be. He made a promise to come see his wife when she arrives at the airport. He made a promise. He can't break a promise, that's why he shouldn't be dead. There was no reason for him to be dead.

Unfortunately, reality didn't work that way.

Nick collapsed to his knees and nearly fell forward had it not been for the chief who caught him by the shoulders and held him up. Nick unconsciously grabbed onto the Bartlett's jacket and pulled on it. Nick was soaking his face in his own tears.

"…why…?" mumbled Nick.

"I'm sorry, Nick…" replied Bartlett in the only way he could, "He was a great friend…I'm so sorry."

Nick kept on crying. Words were useless, even if he had the will to say anything. He stayed on his knees with the chief the only one holding him up. The patrolman in the back respectfully took off his hat and had his head down. Outside the window, if any one of them had looked to notice, the rain started to come down from the dark gray skies once again.

Today wasn't such a normal day after all.

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Saturday, the next morning.

Tomoyo Davenport arrived in the Jump International Airport at around nine in the morning. She was dressed in the same manner as she left Japan via Osaka. Behind her, being pulled by her hand, was her trolley bag. She arrived with a smile, hoping to see her two most beloved men in the world welcome her home. Instead she spotted a man, in a police uniform, holding out a piece of cardboard with her name on it.

The man didn't seem to recognize her as his glance passed her figure. Tomoyo eyed the man curiously. She then took a few moments to glance around herself. She saw people all around her of all kinds of ethnic backgrounds scurrying about in the airport. She kept looking for a while but one strange conclusion eventually reached her.

Nicky and Marvin were nowhere to be seen.

She thought this was strange. They had both promised to be here. Marvin through their most recent IM conversation, and Nick though a more recent e-mail. She then turned her sights again to the man in the police jacket holding out the board with her name on it.

The man was still looking around, trying to find someone who he apparently never seen before, making his job rather difficult. Tomoyo weighed her options. The man seemed alone and looked authentic enough. He didn't recognize her yet. She could just wait for her two boys to come. But then again, they were never late for anything before. What happened now?

She decided to chance it. She approached the man in the police uniform. The man didn't acknowledge her until she was less than ten feet from him. He was wondering about her if she was the one he was looking for. He coughed to clear his throat and asked her.

"Are you Tomoyo Davenport?" asked the man.

"Yes, I am," replied Tomoyo, "and you are?"

The man gave her a quick and casual salute then introduced himself. Good morning ma'am, I'm officer Lee. I've been assigned to escort you to the JCPD headquarters."

Tomoyo curiously raised an eyebrow. "Under whose authority?"

"Um, this is a direct request from Chief Bartlett, ma'am."

"Bartlett?"

The officer reached into his breast pocket with one hand and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "He wanted you to read this, ma'am."

Tomoyo took the paper from the officer and unfolded it. It was a handwritten note. She recognized the handwriting instantly. Bartlett is a close friend of the family and she knew his handwriting like she knew the back of her hand. It also had his signature on the bottom. Tomoyo read the short handwritten note carefully.

Tomoyo, this is Bartlett. I need you to come to JCPD headquarters as soon as you can. There are some things we need to talk about. Nick is with me and we are waiting for you. If you're reading this, then you've already met officer Lee. I've assigned him to escort you here. Everything will be explained when you get here.

Tomoyo must've read the note at least three times before handing it back to officer Lee. Finally convinced of what she has to do, she agreed to go with the officer to JCPD headquarters. Officer Lee led her out of the airport and towards a patrol car parked near the main entrance of the terminal.

Tomoyo loaded her trolley bag in the trunk and took a seat in the front passenger seat. Officer Lee started driving and they were soon gone from the airport. Throughout the whole trip, neither one of them said a word to each other. Officer Lee, knowing better, was respectfully silent. Tomoyo, on the other hand, couldn't stop pondering.

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Minutes later, at JCPD Headquarters.

Tomoyo arrived before she knew where she was. She was lost in thought throughout the whole trip from the airport. Officer Lee proceeded to escort her through the main building itself. He told here that she was going to meet Chief Bartlett in his office.

She asked the officer if Nicky was really there. The officer said yes. She asked if her husband was there. The officer did not say anything. He never spoke to her after that. Tomoyo was a bit discomforted Eventually, they reached the office of the chief. Tomoyo was shown in then left alone.

After passing the door, Tomoyo immediately noticed the chief sitting behind his desk. Nicky was there, sitting on a chair in front of the chief's desk. Although Tomoyo called out to him, he refused to meet her gaze and stared blankly at the floor.

"Nicky?" called out Tomoyo again., "Are you alright, hon?"

He didn't answer her. He never lifted his head. Tomoyo was about to press the matter when the chief called out to her and stopped her. He knew better and this was only gonna get worse. It's best that everyone isn't agitated in the start.

"Mrs. Davenport," called Bartlett, "…Tomoyo, please sit. There's something you should know."

Tomoyo hesitated as she was requested to sit down. She kept staring at Nick who never looked at her ever since she entered the room. She found that rather disturbing, given the enthusiasm he showed during his e-mail reply to her recently. Something was very wrong.

Tomoyo sat in the designated chair on the opposite side of the desk of Bartlett. She turned her sights from Nick to the chief of police himself. Her glance was questioning, bordering on demanding. Bartlett knew this was not gonna be easy. He hated the fact that he had to do this job.

After he decided that Tomoyo was calm enough, he started with the story. Tomoyo listened intently while Nick was almost looked like he was being tortured. At the end of the story, Tomoyo looked like she had a stroke.

Within milliseconds, she was out of her seat and screaming profanities vehemently. It was quite lucky that the chief's office was built with soundproof walls otherwise the whole building would have heard her. Tears were pouring out of her eyes.

It was at that point that Nick first started to speak up. He said something about calming down but Tomoyo didn't have an ear for it. She immediately hugged him tightly as if fearing he would disappear too. Tomoyo was soaking Nick's shirt with her own tears. Nick was fighting back his own tears. He had done enough crying last night.

They continued like that for sometime. Inside deep within each of their minds, A logical voice was telling them that this was inevitable. Marvin was a cop. That title brought about with it more than just a badge. Marvin had talked to them about this kind of thing before, Tomoyo when they were still just dating, and Nick when he was about eight years old.

Marvin told them about the risks of his job. He told them that he knew he'd have to pay a price one day. It was a price he was willing to pay but not something he wanted to give to the people he loved. Nick and Tomoyo, while not openly acknowledging it, knew this awful truth and lived with it buried deep inside their unconscious mind all this time.

Though they acted it, the situation did not surprise them. They were expecting this day to come eventually. They were just waiting all this time. In the end, they knew that this was what Marvin wanted: to go out in the line of duty. He has given his life for the people of this city. He did his duty well and the people will forever remember him as a great hero. They should be happy for Marvin.

They kept on grieving.

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Sunday afternoon.

It was then that the burial of Marvin Davenport was held. The funeral consisted of Saturday afternoon and most of Sunday morning. It was now the afternoon, right when the sun was about to set and painted the sky with color amber leaves.

It was the kind of burial given to the person with the highest honors, such was Marvin's distinction among his colleagues. Chief Bartlett himself gave a rather heartwarming eulogy. There were at least a over a hundred people, more than half of which were men and women in uniform, gathered around the slowly lowering casket, which was a really fancy, heavily ordained kind. In the background, a man in traditional Scottish attire was playing a sad tune on a bagpipe.

Nick was there, upfront standing next to his mother. He was wearing a formal black suit, fitting the situation. Tomoyo was wearing formal black attire as well but she didn't wear a veil or a hat. There was an unusual sense of calm in their expressions but their sadness was still apparent.

After the services were over, people began to disperse in all direction, some staying for a bit longer offering a prayer or two. Some people were talking with one another about the way they knew Marvin and stuff like that. Tomoyo was talking to Chief Bartlett near a tree by the road.

"Will," started Tomoyo, "that was a wonderful eulogy you gave a while ago. I'd like to thank you for it."

"Don't mention it, Tomoyo," said Bartlett, "I was just being honest. Everything I said about Marvin was true. He was a hero. He was one of the best. How are you and Nick holding up?"

"Oh, we're fine by now."

"Really?"

"Marvin… has always warned me that a day like this would come. Deep inside I guess I knew that… we both did… but just didn't want to believe it."

"I see."

"If anything, I should be happy for Marvin. He died doing his duty. He died honorably. There are so few people who could ever dream to make that kind of claim. Plus, I don't would want me to be like this."

"What do you mean?"

"He wouldn't have wanted us to be so hooked up on his passing like this. He would've wanted us to keep moving on."

"Is that what you're gonna do now?"

Tomoyo looked towards the distance. She saw Nick standing near the top of a hill. "I still have Nicky. It's only right that I move on, for his sake if not for Marvin."

"Yeah, probably. You think Nick will be fine, having gone through this."

Tomoyo looked back at the chief. "Nicky is strong. He will recover from this, he'll move on like I'll move on."

"Well… If there's anything you need, I'm also still here for you, Tomoyo…"

"Thanks, Will…"

Tomoyo gave the chief a friendly hug. They then parted ways and began to talk to other people that were still there. Meanwhile, Nick was standing on top of the hill, wandering around aimlessly.

After a while of wandering, Nick noticed that he had gained a good amount of distance from the crowds and found himself alone. He was still able to hear the conversations but only at whisper level. Nick looked around and found a tall oak tree.

Nick made his way towards the tree and sat on one of the protruding roots. He gave a long exasperating sigh. Some weekend this turned out to be. He ran out of tears long ago, but inside his mind, he was still crying, still wanting things to be different. Everything was just fine one moment then wrong the next. He wished he could've change things, but that was impossible.

Nick wondered what his dad might have said if he should see him in such a pathetic state. Marvin would probably scold him, Nick concluded in his mind. He was supposed to be stronger than this. His dad raised him better than this. He had to move on, leave the past. He wanted to but couldn't at that moment. At that moment he was still lost. Nick hated himself for it.

"How're you hanging in there, kid?"

Nick looked up to see who called his attention. It was Bob, wearing the proper attire for a burial. Bob had somehow snuck up on Nick and ended up leaning against the tree Nick was sitting under. On a normal occasion, Nick would've noticed someone, especially as big as Bob, sneaking up on him. Must be just a little too preoccupied with his thoughts.

"Oh, it's you, Detective Benedict," replied Nick.

"Just "Bob" will do, kid…"

"Alright…"

"So how are you hanging in there? Let me tell you that I think you took it pretty well, both you and your mom. Most funerals I go to, the family usually cries a river."

"I'm glad you think so. 'cause I think I'm not taking this the way I'm supposed to."

"How's that?"

"Dad would've hated to see me like this, grieving and pathetic. He would've wanted me to move on. He raised me better than that. Mom is taking it way better than me."

"Oh, don't worry so much about. I knew Marv was a tough guy. And from what I've seen of you, you'll definitely take after him on that."

"Maybe…"

"I something bothering you too much? I think this is more than a case of grief."

"…I can't stop feeling that… This wasn't supposed to happen yet. That it was not his time. That we were all cheated out of the life he should've had…"

Bob coughed a bit. "Well… shit happens, right. Nothing us mortals can do about it…"

"…"

Nick was silent for a while. Bob reached into his suit and pulled out a lighter and a cigarette. After lighting, he took in a long draw then puffed it back out. He then looked down at Nick a little worriedly.

"You still with us, kid?" asked Bob.

"…Why do people have to die?" asked Nick.

Bob didn't answer immediately. He took another draw of smoke from his cigarette and seemed to be thinking deeply. Nick didn't really press for an answer and presented it as more of a rhetorical question. After a short while, Bob did give an answer.

"Kid, in this line of work, guys like me and your father eventually learn that… there's no reason for us to die. Death in nothing but an idiot's game. Your Dad probably knew this and that's probably why he doesn't want you moping over him."

Bob took another draw then puffed it out. Nick was looking up at him like a schoolboy would a wise and exalted master.

"In reality, No one deserves death…" Bob summarized.

"If that's the case…" responded Nick, "…why do we die?"

"It might be true that no one deserves death… But then, have we ever done anything to deserve life either…?"

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On the roof of the nearest high rise.

Jane Franklin was looking through the viewfinder of an SLR camera, mounted on a tripod, and fitted with a really long telescopic lens. Through the viewfinder of the camera, she could see the burial quite clearly. She could even identify a few faces, like the chief of police and a few other VIP's

Though she was using a camera, she didn't take any pictures. There was no need. She was simply watching, observing like a detective. She stepped away from the camera for a while, having seen enough. Placed on top of one of the air-conditioning units of the building was her laptop computer. She went to it and started typing away.

"Two cops in Jump City," she said, "two from Gotham city, and four from Opal city…"

She then closed her laptop and put it in a bag. She also went to her camera and began disassembling the lens, folding up the tripod, and putting them all away in their respective carrying cases. She slung them all over her shoulder and made her way to the exit of the roof.

"Too many good people are loosing their lives," she said to no one, "Falcone… I swear you'll go down…"

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Author's note: Not much action going on for now but it will pick up again soon enough. As usual please R&R!

Also, it has come to my attention that the algebra problem was wrong. I thought I got it right but when I read the chapter myself I found out I made a typo. The second equation was supposed to have a "plus" instead of a "minus." If that was the case then the solution would've been right. By the time I put up this chapter I'll correct that little mistake. 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or anything related to them, ok?"

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The following days after the funeral.

For Nick, the days passed by like wayward daydreams. In the last week of school before the final exams, Nick was far from being himself. Yet he still managed a degree of consciousness that got him through the days.

Often, he would wander into different places while he didn't have classes. And often, once he realizes where he is, he would have forgotten how and when he got there. He barely ate much or hung out at his usual spots. During the few remaining classes he had that week, he would sometimes arrive late or completely zone out in the middle of it.

Despite these minor infractions, no one really got on Nick's case about it. That's because by then, almost everyone had already heard the news about his father's passing. Whether through the TV, radio reports, or obituaries, anybody that Nick was remotely acquainted to knew about it.

Often in the week , those who knew Nick would come up to him and offer their condolences. Some of these individuals include Principal Numataka himself who was actually the first one to approach Nick on the issue. Nick would always answer the same way, almost mechanically, that he was fine and didn't need any condolences. Tara, who approached Nick as well, was the only one who got an extended reply.

"Nick?" she approached him one afternoon while he was aimlessly walking around the campus with nothing in particular to do.

"What?" he replied coldly.

"Listen, I heard about your dad…"

"So has everybody else. What, you're gonna offer me your pity too? I don't need it."

"I'm not saying you do. I'm saying you may need someone to talk to, that's all…"

"And I suppose you're the most qualified individual to do so?"

"I'm not saying that! But, if you really need someone to talk to… well we've always had it easy when it comes to casual conversation. I'm your friend, that's all. Am I'm only doing what friends are suppose to do."

Nick stopped walking which prompted Tara to do the same. Nick turned to face her fully. His face was as cold as steel. Tara found it difficult to imagine that look to ever appear on Nick's face the way it should then and there.

"Listen to me, Tara," he started, "This isn't casual. It's way beyond casual conversation since it's not everyday that we loose people we care for deeply. I knew my father better than anyone else next to my mom so I know he would hate me for moping about him the way I did at his funeral. I don't need to be reminded his gone. I don't need people telling me it's gonna be alright. I don't need anymore reasons to continue to be stuck in the past and not move on. If I ever want to honor my father's memory, I'd move on. All these condolences do nothing for me than weigh me down and they're the last thing I need right now so please, Tara, do me a big favor and just drop the subject…"

Tara didn't have an answer. Nick didn't stick around to wait for her to come up with one. He started walking again, and this time Tara didn't follow. She was left standing there in the middle of the hallway contemplating Nick's words.

Nick thought that he was a little out of line back there and made a mental note to apologize to Tara the next chance he gets. But as of that moment all he wanted to do was forget.

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In his penthouse suite.

Adrian Falcone was lying face down, naked and with just a towel protecting his decency, on a massage table while a very lovely lady masseuse was soothingly ribbing away his stress with skilled hands. Falcone's pleasure was apparent with the continuous moans of relief. The lady knew how to do her job well and it was showing.

She started at his shoulder blades, pressing the muscles in rhythmic fashion as if kneading dough into bread. She continued kneading his flesh with her skillful hands while progressively going lower on his back. She didn't stop her hands even as the reached the towel around his waist. Her hands discreetly slipped under his towel. Falcone moaned.

At that moment, there was knock on the door. The masseuse immediately pulled her hand away from under the towel. Falcone raised his head slightly, his expression slightly annoyed.

"Come in," he called out.

The door opened a Bruno, Falcone's personal assistant, walked in. As he walked in, Bruno gave the masseuse a brief scrutinizing glance but then ignored her completely. He came within ten feet of the massage table where Falcone started to sit up on.

"Sir," started Bruno, "I came to report that the latest shipment has already arrived. Oh, and I also need to tell you that we seemed to have managed to grab ourselves some new business partners, as you put it, sir."

Falcone grinned in satisfaction. "So does this mean the Cubans are willing to make some deals now?"

"Yes sir, and they've already requested a meeting tomorrow."

"Perfect…" he gave a slight wave to his masseuse, telling her to leave the room. She politely complied and soon left the two men to talk.

Falcone hopped off the massage table and walked to a nearby chair where a bathrobe hung. He grabbed it and put it on. He then went to a nearby coffee able where a small wooden box was on it. Falcone reached down and opened the box, showing off more of his expensive looking cigars. He took one, cut out the tips with a cutter, wetted, spat, and lit it with a match.

"By the way, sir," continued Bruno, "Detective Benedict called."

Falcone turned his full attention to Bruno then. "Calling to confirm a job well done I suppose?"

"If, it's about that other detective, sir, then yes, he was calling to confirm that."

"Yes, I've seen the news. The man had a bigger reputation than I originally estimated. But I hope that's a good lesson to all the other badges who think they can try and take me on. No more problems from that end, I hope?"

"I've already taken the liberty to ask Benedict, sir. He says that we won't have to worry about any more trouble coming from the JCPD."

"Good. That Benedict may be a little Bumbling sometimes but at least he gets the job done. What about our friend… Silencer?"

"His pay has already been transferred and he's awaiting his next mission."

"Oh, I think he can have a break for a while…"

Falcone walked out to his Balcony with his lit cigar in his mouth. The night breeze was unusually warm. The summer was coming and the chill in the air was slowly migrating away to someone else's winter. He took a deep puff from his cigar and blew out a large cloud of smoke.

"With the way things are going, it looks to be smooth sailing from here on out…"He turned around to look at Bruno. "After all, who is able to stop me now?"

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At the end of the final exams week.

The finals week, just like the last week, flowed by like surreal memory that feels like it happened but no one can remember that it happened. Nick felt this way. At the end of every exam he took, if anyone were to ask him how he did he would be able to honestly say that he had no idea.

Again, Nick's mind was in places other than school. He breezed through exams like they weren't there, letting the unconscious part of his mind do most of the work. He was barely paying attention to anything he was doing then. But, interestingly enough, he still managed to pass with flying colors.

He knew all the answers and all he had to do was put it down on paper; even the unconscious mind could do that much. Tough he didn't know it, or cared at that point, he would still probably be at the top of the class by the end of the term, no surprise to anyone. But, always for that week, his mind was on auto-pilot and the conscious thinking part was never really home.

On the last day of the week, on the last exam of that day, Nick and his fellow classmates were in their assigned classroom working on their papers while being watched by a proctor seated on the teacher's desk. Nick moved from one item to the next with relative ease, proceeding with the exam on a faster pace than most of his classmates, who looked to be struggling.

Nick, as usual, was the first one to finish and the first one to leave the classroom after handing his paper in to the proctor at the teacher's desk. He grabbed his stuff from his desk and, without saying a single word throughout that whole day, left the room. There were many pairs of eyes that followed him as he quietly exited and disappeared beyond the door.

Among those pairs of eyes were those of Tara. After watching Nick leave, she quickly turned back to her paper and began speedily answering the last parts of her exam with half-hearted effort. She finished her paper about ten seconds after Nick had left. She rushed her finished paper to the proctor, dashed back to her seat to grab her stuff, and burst out of the room like it was on fire. This time, more pairs of eyes followed the second person to finish her exam as she left the room.

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Minutes later, out in the parking lot.

Since the final exam week didn't involve any academic sessions, students were allowed to leave as soon as they finished their exams for the day. It was still quite early outside, just around lunch time and some students were already on their way out of school and were officially on their summer vacations.

Nick was one such person. Having finished his exams he was now on vacation and free to do what ever he wanted to do. Problem was he didn't know exactly what he wanted to do or what his options were. The last two weeks have progress at such a pace that his mind practically numbed and without spark. It maybe true that he stopped grieving for some time now, but a little part of him was still trying to get the "moving on" process rolling. Until then, everything was at a snail's pace.

Nick was making a bee line towards where he parked his bike. He grabbed the helmet that was hanging off the end of one of the handle bars and took his seat on the bike. He took out the ignition key from his pocket and inserted it into the ignition and turned it on, like he always did. But just as he was about to kick the start pedal, someone familiar called out to him.

"Nick!" Tara's familiar voice called out.

Nick didn't look immediately and first let out an exasperated sigh. He looked towards her general direction and found her a few feet away to his side, sweat building on her forehead and panting heavily for breath. One would think she just ran a marathon.

"Yes, Tara?" Nick asked.

"I'm glad I caught you," she said as soon as she got her wind back.

"Why…?"

"Why? Oh um…well…"

Nick raised an eyebrow as Tara failed to provide an answer. Nick probably stared at her for a good ten seconds before he pressed the issue.

"…Tara!"

"Huh? Oh! Right!" Tara reached into her pocket and retrieved two slips of paper, "I just happened to have these two free movie passes that my friend gave to me because she said she couldn't make it since she had to go away to her grandma's place as soon as she got out so she gave them to me and now that we both have some time off since it's summer vacation already I thought you and I should go see a movie or something with theses passes so that they wont be wasted 'cause if their wasted that would upset my friend and I don't want to upset her since when she's upset she gets mad and all so… what do you say?"

That little proposal took all of ten seconds to finish and Nick still had his eyebrow raised. He then looked away from Tara for a moment in which he let out another exasperating sigh. I f she thinks he doesn't see through her plans, then she is grossly underestimating his powers of perception. He looked back at her as she was grinning like an idiot.

"…You're asking me out?" asked Nick, somewhat jokingly.

"What? No! Of course not! I just… think you and I need to talk a bit more and that you should relax, that's all."

At that point it was clear to Nick what her intentions were. Nick tried to look for an excuse to get away from her; something better to do perhaps. But he couldn't think of any excuse that wouldn't insult the hell out of her. He didn't want to do that. Tara was a good friend. Too good in fact that it annoyed the hell out of him, but he still didn't want to be rude and alienate her.

"Nick," Tara continued, "it's alright if we just talked right?"

Nick had no choice. "Sure… but, if you ant a ride, I don't have an extra helm--"

Tara suddenly reached into her pack and pulled out a bike helmet, the smaller kind the didn't cover the entire head and had no visor. "That's okay, I brought my own!"

Nick sweatdropped. He never really had a choice at all.

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A little later.

It was around noon and the sky was a nice partly cloudy sky with just enough sun to radiate the lively colors of a bustling metropolis that is Jump City. Summer was coming and for some people it had already arrived. A nice cool breeze was blowing through the city like a fresh breath of nature

Nick and Tara decided to have lunch first. They went to one of the most famous pizza places in town. The place was famous since it was one of the few places where you're allowed to custom choose your choice of toppings. Another reason is that this particular place is frequented by five famous super teens, who were not there at that moment.

They sat on a table outside on the triangular balcony which was half of the pizza place. The floor of the balcony was yellow and the tables were round and colored red. Anyone with a bird's eye view could see that the clever paint scheme was designed to give the illusion that the triangular balcony area would look like a gigantic slice of pepperoni pizza from the air.

Nick and Tara were seated on the table located at the tip of the triangular balcony. They had a fantastic view of the city as they ate their orders, which were no more than a large slice of pizza along with a tall glass of soda for each of them. They chatted as they ate, as most would normally do.

"So," started Tara, "how were the exams for you?"

Nick chuckled a bit. "What exam?" he said sarcastically.

A small vein popped out of Tara's head. "You know, If your gonna be such a smartass at least you could be a little more humble."

"Why? Did you find it tough?"

"Well math was still a headache, even though I did a little better thanks to all your help and all."

"No problem."

"That reading comprehension part nearly killed me. I mean what kind of a question is "A clothing store is open from Monday to Friday and is closed on Saturday and Sunday. Is the store open on the weekends?" I mean, it's so obvious, you know."

"And what did you answer?"

"What?"

"Did you answer true or false?"

"Well…I uh…"

Nick chuckled. "That's what I thought…"

"The question was confusing! Even though I just said it was obvious… It was playing with my head!"

Nick chuckled some more. "Don't worry about it so much. You'd be surprised at how many people actually get that question wrong. That's what reading comprehension is all about really. You have to remember to read between the lines, Tara."

"Yeah, whatever," Tara takes a big bite out of her slice, "But, if anything, History was what really caused me to go brain-dead."

"Stop exaggerating. I'm sure you did fine, Tara, you always have, even though you say you failed."

"It's just so hard to remember all those stupid names. And some of the questions were unbelievably dumb like: Who the heck was America's first emperor?"

"Joshua A. Norton, or Emperor Norton I as he preferred to be called. You're not originally from this country so I guess you shouldn't know much about that guy."

"…You actually had an emperor in this country?"

"He wasn't really an official emperor. He just proclaimed himself emperor one day through the newspapers. He didn't have any political power but he made a whole lot of decrees. He had his own currency and his own laws. He actually tried to order the army to destroy the American congress at one point but, of course, the army didn't listen to him."

"Sounds like one crazy guy. Emphasis on _crazy_."

"Sure you may think that, but a lot of people liked him during his "reign" as their emperor. He was a nice old guy who always did the right thing, like that time when he protected a bunch of Chinese immigrants from a bunch of racists. He actually did a lot of good things in his time."

"Still, he sounds like a madman."

"Maybe. But, in the end, I think it was his madness that kept him sane."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever… never mind. I mean it's just so hard for me to remember all those names. I know all those guys were supposed to be great and a whole bunch of stuff, but they're already dead and you can't really blame me for forgetting them so easily. C'mon Nick, I mean, how hard is it to forget about dead people?"

Nick was silent, his eyes staring blankly at the table. Tara was worried for a second then finally remembered what she just said regarding dead people. She mentally beat the crap out of herself with a sledgehammer.

Nick concentrated on his food for a while, but all in all didn't seem to take offense. He decided to change the subject all together, not wanting to spoil a nice day. "So, how's the pizza?"

"Hmm… same as last time I guess," Tara answered flatly.

"So, you have been here before. That why you wanted to have lunch here?"

"Nah, this place was just recommended by my friends, that's all. But, yeah, I've eaten here before."

"Were you with somebody then?"

Tara started mumbling, which Nick couldn't hear. "Yeah, but I only did it so that little grass stain would promise to leave me alone…"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing, Nick. Just some annoying guy I wanted to get rid of, that's all."

"Who was it exactly?"

"No one you should concern yourself with."

"Okay, if you say so." Nick took a sip of his soda.

"So, what movie do you want to see?"

"Pardon?"

"What movie do you want to see?"

"What movie are those tickets you have for?"

"I never said they were tickets. I said they were passes. We can use them to go to any movie that we want to go to. So I'm asking you what movie you want to watch."

"I'm not particularly picky. Why don't you decide. They're your passes anyway."

"Oh. Sure, umm… Well there is this one movie I want to watch but I don't want to watch it alone so, now that you're with me, maybe I could now…"

"Great, it's decided now. Let's go already."

Nick wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. They had already finished their meals by then and were due to leave their table. Nick didn't seem to particularly care what Tara chooses to watch since he doesn't seem to have any preferences of his own.

"Huh? Oh… ok, let's go then."

They both walked out of the restaurant together.

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Some time later.

Nick and Tara rode all the way to the mall from the pizza place. The went straight to the movie which Tara wanted to see. It was a highly recommended movie with multiple praises from famous people written all over the banners. Nick looked passed all that and saw the important stuff. Above everything else, the movie was a chick-flick.

He never really had a taste for these kinds of movies. The plot was overly predictable and you almost know who the girl is going to end up with after watching just ten minutes of the film. Nick would admit that films like this are very emotional, but then he would say they sort of insult the intellectual person.

Regardless, Tara made it clear that she wanted to watch this film with him, and he already made it clear that he didn't care what choice she made and that he'd go with her anyway. Also, the "with him" part was a little curious. He looked around and spotted a common property among the crowd. Most, if not all, of the people who were entering to watch the movie were couples.

Nick looked at Tara. "So, why is it that you didn't want to watch this movie alone?"

"Well, just look at all those people going in with somebody. I don't want to be seen going in there alone, it's embarrassing. Especially considering the kind of movie it is."

"So, I'm going with you as your…"

"No! No, nothing like that! It was just that it's pretty convenient that you're here with me and…"

"…"

An awkward silence between the two.

"…Let's just go in already…" said Nick, while casually grasping Tara's hand and pulling her along. Tara's face turned a shade of red for just a second.

The movie went by relatively quick. Nick watched it with half-baked interest and couldn't care to count how many times he actually yawned during the movie. He found the trailers more amusing. He could appreciate some aspects of the film however, as he predicted earlier, plot was relatively obvious.

Overall, he didn't care what the movie was bout. He wasn't here on his behalf anyway. He looked to the seat next to him where Tara was. Somewhere half-way along the film's progress, Tara had managed to lean her head and rest it against Nick's shoulder and Nick apparently failed to notice entirely. He didn't object however and her head stayed there for the duration of the movie.

After the movie, Nick and Tara found a lot of time to kill so they simply decided to take stroll around the mall. They looked through various shops and department stores trying to find something of interest for either of them. They bought some cheap trinkets (mostly some decorative hairclips) and nothing else. Tara wore one of her purchases right away, which was a blue butterfly hairclip. Nick honestly said that it looked good on her causing her to blush a bit.

The kept wandering around, eventually ending up in one of the mall's arcades. They exchanged about ten dollars for quarters and spent it in the span of about half-an-hour playing some first-person-shooters, racing games, fighting games, and a couple of air hockey matches.

When they were down to their last quarters, Tara spotted one of those crane machines with dozens of stuffed animals inside it. Nick always hated those machines because he knew hey were designed in such a way that it was almost impossible for anyone to get a prize. Still, without really thinking about it, he popped a quarter in and gave it a try anyway.

Amazingly enough, Nick managed to grabbed a small pink stuffed bunny rabbit and successfully bring it to the chute. He took it out and stared at it as if he couldn't believe his own luck. Unable to think of anything better to do with it, Nick handed the stuffed bunny to Tara who took it eagerly and hugged it tightly to herself.

She then thanked Nick and hugged him tightly to herself. Nick blushed a bit. Tara, suddenly realizing what she was doing went wide-eyed and immediately regressed from Nick then quickly turned away to hide her blushing face.

Eventually, the decided to get some snacks. They found a quaint little café that wasn't too expensive and decide to have some coffee and doughnuts. They sat at a table with their food and simply talked. They talked about the movie, about the exams, about other things that neither found any offense in. And they genuinely had a good time.

After over an hours worth of talking, their coffee mugs were empty and their doughnuts were all but gone. The decided to take another walk across the mall before leaving. They didn't go into any stores for some shopping or any arcades to play some games. They seemed perfectly content in walking alongside each other… hand in hand.

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Some time much later.

It was already turning into a late afternoon before anyone could really notice. When you look and watch a clock move, you feel as if time is slow and at a snail's pace. But when you walk, run, read, write, do anything other than just sitting, waiting, and watching, seconds disappear as if they were never there and long minutes boil down into moments.

Nick and Tara were riding for only an hour or so. They weren't in any particular hurry or had any particular destination to go to. They ended up near the bay overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Nick parked on a nearby space. Both teens got off and walked towards the bayside where several other people were at, walking down the walkways doing whatever they needed to do.

Nick and Tara leaned against the metal railing separating them from the waters a few feet below. The waves melodically crashed against the rocks below them. Ahead of them the could see the vast ocean turning a bright amber glow due the setting sun. To one side was the familiar monument of Titans Tower which neither of the two paid any significant notice to.

"I had a great time today," said Tara, "thanks for coming with me."

"No problem," said Nick, "didn't have anything better to do anyway."

"Thanks for the bunny too. It's really cute."

"You already thanked me for that, remember?"

Tara blushed a bit, recalling earlier. "Oh, right, sorry."

"Don't be."

"So, you have any plans for the summer?"

"Not really, no. I figured I'll find something interesting to do by the end of the month. Or I could just sit around the house and wait for the next school year to come by."

"Yeah, I have the same problem. Got no plans either. Kinda sucks really. Takes out all the fun after looking forward to the summer all this time. Still, I'm sure something interesting will come along. Something always does in this city…"

"You could study some more, you know? So you don't have to be complaining all the time when it comes to school. Why don't you get an early start on your studies this summer? I'll gladly help."

Tara glared daggers at him. "Don't even joke like that."

Nick chuckled a bit. They both looked out over the ocean. The bright amber color painted by the seting sun was truly remarkable. The cool sea breeze was blowing across the bay which felt really soothing, like it was gently caressing their skin. Nick couldn't remember the last time he felt so at ease. He then looked at Tar, her long blonde hair waving in the wind.

"Thank you, Tara," he said.

Tara raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"I really need to thank you for what you've done for me. Maybe now I can… start moving on."

"But… Nick, I thought… you said you were already moving on."

"I thought it would be that easy. I thought I was strong enough. But I wasn't. I couldn't bring myself to move on. Something inside me always hung back so I could only stay still. It was killing me. I couldn't find a reason to move on… 'till now."

Tara looked at Nick with concern and curiosity, listening intently as the wind blew at her hair.

"You showed me something I should've known so long ago," he continued, "Life was like that: there are some bad times, there will always be. But life also has some good times too. Both in the past and the time to come. I couldn't see that. But you showed me that, Tara. I feel like I can finally get my feet moving in the right direction now."

"Um, well…" said Tara, "…you're welcome, Nick."

"God, I must've been such a jackass to you these past two weeks. I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't worry about it. No one goes through what you went through without some kind of difficulty. At least now, you're okay to start off fresh right. I'm glad I could help."

"I really owe you one…"

"Like I said, don't mention it…"

They looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like a fraction of eternity. Neither moved nor said a word but their smiles, though small as they were, never left their lips. In the distance, the sun continued to trek ever further down the horizon and the breeze began to calm down.

Slowly, their heads inched closer to one another as they started to lean towards each other. Their eyes steadily closed as the gap between their faces shortened as the seconds went by. Their lips came ever closer as they began to pucker ever so slightly and—

_**SCREEEEEECH! HONK!**_

Both teens, as well as a handful of people that were present in the local area, suddenly jumped at the sudden noise of a loud truck horn. Everyone within earshot turned to the source of the loud sound. On the street close by, a large deliver truck had apparently skidded to a halt. In front of the truck was an all but surprised businessman who looked to have been crossing the street at the time.

The fuming driver of the truck poked his head out of the driver side window and began yelling out a rather extensive collection of profanities towards the businessman on the street telling him to get off the road. The business man on the street, equally enraged, was loudly professing his right to cross the street without having to be run over by a moron with ten wheels.

Nick and Tara stared for a while as the brief argument ran its course. They then looked back towards each other and, almost immediately, looked away, faces turning red. A long an awkward silence followed until Nick broke it.

"Um…" he said, "It's getting late. I'll just give you a ride and drop you at your place if you want."

"Uh, sure…" she replied, "thanks, Nick."

They walked back towards Nick's bike, put on their helmets, and rode off.

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Somewhere…

It was dark. Everywhere was dark. Nick was standing in the middle of the roof of a tall building in his sleep clothes (a t-shirt and pajama pants). He looked around an there was nothing but darkness. He slowly walked to the edge of the building. He saw the street as he looked down over the edge. It was at least five miles all the way down, maybe more.

Nick was then faintly aware of a figure standing behind him. He turned around to see who it was. And there, Marvin stood, in his usual ensemble of shirt, khakis, and coat. He was standing stoically looking back at Nick who had wide eyes.

"Dad…?" Nick asked into the air. His voice echoing strangely.

Marvin neither moved nor spoke and Nick was rather dumbfounded at this. Suddenly a shot rang out and it was louder than anything Nick had ever heard before. Marvin' eyes exploded as his body went limp and fell forward onto the cold concrete floor of the roof.

Nick's eyes went even wider. He couldn't say anything. He couldn't move his arms or his legs. He stared down at the fallen body of Marvin as blood slowly pooled under the body. Nick looked up. A few feet behind Marvin, a faceless figure stood, holding a smoking gun aimed at Nick who found himself never feeling more scared in his life than there and then.

But he couldn't move, he couldn't breath so he couldn't scream even as another shot rang out and Nick could feel the bullet tearing right into his heart. In that instant, Nick's body fell on its back. Blood had already started to flow from the wound. Nick's eyes slowly clamped shut. The faceless figure with the gun laughed.

The laughter echoed in the vast and empty darkness. Nick's dead body didn't move as blood flowed freely from the hole on his chest. But the blood didn't flow down from the body. Instead, one steady stream of it moved up the body across the chest, down into the neck, up the chin, past the lips and nose, and stopped right over the left eye.

Slowly, it started to form into something. A symbol, a letter. A slashed red 'x' right across the face. And when the 'x' was done, Nick eyes slowly opened. They were empty and soulless as it seemed.

The figure with the gun stopped laughing all of a sudden. He stared at the figure ahead of it the was steadily rising off the ground. The boy was supposed to be dead, but it wasn't really the boy anymore that was getting back up. Instead, it was another, wearing a black suit, a tethered cape, and an ivory skull mask with a slashed crimson 'x' over it.

Red X stared at his adversary like a hunter would a prey. The faceless figure lifted its gun but Red X immediately draw an x-shuriken and threw it faster then any bullet towards the faceless figure. The x-shuriken caught the figure off-guard and drove deep into its shoulder.

The faceless figure stumbled back from the pain, dropping his gun to clutch his wound. The figure kept stumbling back until the roof disappeared under it as it accidentally stumbled over the edge. Red X moved to edge of the roof, pass the dead body of Marvin, to see what happened to the faceless figure.

The figure had not fallen yet. It had managed to actually grab onto the edge and was clinging desperately for its life. Red X watched emotionlessly. It became apparent that the figure was loosing his grip. Red X didn't do a damn thing about it. Then, the figure fell, letting out a gut wrenching scream.

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In his bedroom.

"Aaaaaaahhh!"

Nick woke up with a start. He was gasping for air. Slowly, his logical mind was telling him that there was no apparent danger and it instructed his body to calm down and take it easy. Eventually, Nick did calm down, his breathing slowed and his eyes rested from their shocked look. He wiped the sweat off his brow with a hand.

He reached to his chest, as if checking if it was wounded. Of course, it wasn't. Nothing was wrong with him. Why would there be anything wrong with him? I t was only a dream after all. That was what he told himself then and there.

It was only a dream.

Nick looked towards a small desk next to his bed. On the desk was a small digital alarm clock. It displayed, in bright red numbers, that the time was about a little pass two in the morning. Nick turned away from the clock and let out a long exasperated sigh.

He stayed that way, sitting up on his bed contemplating the dream he just had. Most dreams you'd forget almost immediately after waking. But this one was different. This one lingered in his head which was rare for dreams to do. To Nick, the events of the dream was as crisp and sharp as his most fond memory. He pondered on it for quite some time. He looked out the window (he had a window since his room shared the same wall that was facing outside as the living room) and he observed that it was raining quite heavily. He kept thinking about the dream and what it meant to him.

He got off his bed and walked, barefoot, out bedroom. He walked across his darkened living room. Listening for something, he was sort of relieved that he didn't wake up his mother. He walked slowly across the living room and right out the door.

The hallway was dark with only dim nightlights illuminating the way. The floor was almost impossible to find. Yet, through years of experience, Nick found his way easily in the near pitch black hall. He made a beeline towards the elevator and he didn't meet anyone on the way. Once inside, his hand automatically, almost mechanically, reached for the roof button and he went up.

He exited into what looks like some kind of lobby on the roof. No one was there since the roof had no specific function as of that moment. On another occasion the roof might have been used for parties or other celebrations. But for now Nick was alone. He walked forward pass the desk and out the glass doors that lead outside into the pouring rain.

Nick was immediately soaked by the rain and he didn't care. He stopped in the middle of the rooftop and let the rain just wash him over. He looked up though there was nothing to see in the darkened sky. To Nick, the rain felt soothing, almost caressing, to the skin on his face. As droplet after droplet hit him, bits and pieces of is dream would flash through his head.

And at that moment, it became clear.

Nick's father's death was nothing of a fluke like most have thought. He didn't die out of chance. He was killed, cheated out of his life. At the same time Marvin was cheated out of his life, Nick and his mother was cheated out of a father and a husband.

Nick could see that now and he knew what he wanted. He couldn't let it rest. He couldn't bare the thought that the people responsible would not be held accountable. His father deserved better than that. He wanted for things to be right such those responsible must pay the price and face their trials. That, Nick thought, was what he truly wanted. He wanted to set things right. He wanted justice.

He wanted revenge.

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Author's note: Now we're getting somewhere. More action to come in the next chapter. Please R&R! I have very low self-esteem and I need your support! (well, that was desperate)


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Just to make sure you're listening: I don't own the Teen Titans or any other character associated with Warner Brothers.

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The next night.

A lot of people look at a city as a place where there is plenty of resources. Those resources can be anything from people to real estate. When you need something you can always find it in the city. And when you utilize you resources properly, chances are you'll make it big in the city itself. And indeed, the city is full of resources.

There is one kind of resource that a city has plenty of that has often been overlooked and underestimated: walls. If there's one thing a city has plenty of, other than people, it's walls. And the nice thing about walls is that they hide all kinds of things. Many fail to completely utilize this resource but there are a choice few people who do simply because they have no choice.

Somewhere in the industrial district, the unassuming walls of what looked like a milk processing plant hid from the world all that happened within it. And inside, there was no processing of milk whatsoever. Inside, the only thing being process by a bunch of shady looking individuals was a lot less healthy than milk. Anything that was remotely related to milk processing was left unused.

The milk processing plant was just a cover. The building housed one of Adrian Falcone's many secret Venus processing plants where workers labor in creating the bluish powder. Inside was truly a sight to see. On one side was a bunch of complex looking machines, tubing, bottled and cylinders holding in them strange looking chemicals all used in the process to make the very popular hallucinogenic drug.

To the other side of the floor were long tables topped with plastic covers where dozens of men were straining the fresh powder and then packing them up into plastic bags, ready for distribution. Yet to another side, a few men were tending to what looked liked to be a multitude of Venus de Milo figurines. Up on the balconies of the factory floor, many guards carrying AK-47 rifles watched diligently.

Everyone in the place was wearing a small gas mask that covered their mouths and noses. Not really as a safety feature but more along the lines that the employer wanted to make sure that his product went to the consumers and no one else along the way.

Watching all this go along was the plant manager (not an official title) sitting in his office on the second floor of the plant, watching a bunch of monitors feeding images from surveillance cameras. He was bored out of his mind as he had both feet up on the desk.

There were about ten monitors laid in front of the man on his desk, each carrying a different picture. Most of the images show the activities on the plant floor where all the action was going on. However on the farthest right monitor, there was a local game show that was showing. The manager was concentrating mostly on that and a small cup of coffee he prepared for himself. Neither helped to keep him awake.

Eventually he felt the call of nature. He groggily got up from his seat and exited the room. He navigated a few short hallways towards the men's room. He located the lavatory, entered, and did his business. After a short minute, the manager exited and proceeded to return to his office.

He entered the dark office as he did many times over and gave a yawn as he sat down on his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. He took a sip of his now cold coffee and continued to watch the game show on one of his monitors. He was fighting the urge to take a nap and loosing at it too.

He looked up for a brief moment of sleepiness and spotted Red X standing in front of his desk with his dark, tattered cape draped over his arms and shoulders. The manager didn't pay much attention at first and quickly averted his sights back to the game show. It took a while before the manager registered the image he just saw.

His eyes went as wide as dinner plates as whatever sleepiness in him quickly left. He quickly turned again to reconfirm his sight. In front of his desk, Red X still stood there as if he was waiting for the manager to come to his senses. Immediately, the manager dropped his feet off of the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a handgun.

He tried to aim the handgun at Red X but as soon as he took it out of the drawer it suddenly flew out of his hand, as if on its own. The manager's eyes followed the gun as it landed and rested on the floor. There was a red x-shuriken sticking out of its side. The manager turned back to see Red X with an outstretched arm.

Instinct took over as the manager tried to dash out the door to his office but spectacularly failed as Red X quickly grabbed on to the back of his collar and forcedly toss the poor manager all the way to the far wall. The manager soon found himself resting against the back wall and on his butt as Red X menacingly walked towards him. In a last desperate attempt to fend off his attacker, the manager reached behind him and pulled out a radio which he tried to use to contact some help.

He never got the chance to use his radio as it to ended up with an x-shuriken on its side, completely disabling it. The manager dropped the worthless radio as Red X grabbed hi by the collar and hoisted him up to his feet. It was at that point where the manager developed a large wet spot in his trousers which Red X completely ignored.

"Good evening," said Red X casually, "you and I or going to have a little chat."

"I don't know anything!" exclaimed the manager, "I swear!"

"Why do you people keep saying that same lame-ass lie all the time?"

Red X never really waited for an answer as he tossed the manager through the air and down onto his desk. The manager knocked over all the monitors as well as his cup of coffee that were on his desk as he crashed landed on it. He then rolled over and fell onto the floor. He tried to recover as quick as he can but it wasn't quick enough apparently as Red X pinned him against the front of the desk with his black-booted foot.

"Please don't kill me," pleaded the manager.

"If you don't want that," said Red X, "then stop tempting me."

"What do you want?"

"Where is Falcone located?"

"M-M-Mr. Falcone? I-I uh I dunno."

Red X made an x-blade appear out of the top oh his right hand. "What did I say about tempting me?"

"I swear I don't know where he is! I've only met him once. He's never been here since then."

"I don't care about where he's been. I wanna know where he is now."

"I don't know. Nobody knows. He makes sure that none of us knows where he is. It's his security measure so that we can't rat out on him."

"Is that so…? Then I guess I don't need to waste my time with you anymore," Red X said while menacingly raising his bladed right hand.

The manager panicked. "No! Please, don't hurt me! All I know is that this assistant of his, Bruno, is the one who gives me his orders. He knows where Falcone is, I swear!"

At that moment, one of the security guards came in through the door, holding onto an AK-47 rifle. Red X turned his head to the newly arrived guard without much apparent concern. The manager on the other hand looked up to the guard with pleading eyes. The guard didn't seem to notice all this immediately.

"Yo, boss," he said, "you haven't been answering your radio so I decided to come up here and tell you about the--"

The Guard cut himself short of his sentence upon finally noticing how Red X was pinning down the manager on the front of the desk with a foot. It took him the while to process the information before reacting in the first manner he knew. The guard quickly held his rifle ready and started to aim it at Red X.

Red X, for his part, held out his bladed right hand towards the guard and the x-blade suddenly shot out from the top of his hand turning into a large x-shuriken in mid-air. The projectile impacted the guard's rifle which practically disintegrated on impact. The rifle's multiple pieces fell to the floor while the guard rubbed his palms.

Red X took off his foot from the manager and walked to the center of the room. He turned and faced the now disarmed guard. The guard wasn't disarmed for long as he quickly drew a switchblade and charged at Red X who remained standing stoically. The guard reached striking distance and jabbed the blade at Red X. The thief expertly parried the blade with one hand and grabbed the guard's shirt with the other.

Red X tossed the guard over his head and onto the cold hard floor on his back. The guard dropped the switchblade which slid to the far corner of the room away from anyone's reach. The guard quickly got up and faced the Red X. Red X met the guard's glare and showed no fear. The guard charged again, throwing a punch at Red X.

Red X expertly grabbed hold of the guard's outstretched hand and twisted it upwards. This caused the guard to freeze in his footsteps and yelp slightly in pain. Red X, seeing the guard's vulnerability, delivered a swift kick to the stomach while letting go of the guard's hand. The guard bent over in pain, clutching his aching tummy with both arms.

Red X launched the finishing blow. He raised his leg up high and dropped it onto the guards upper back causing the guard to fall flat onto the floor on his face, knocking the wind out of him. The guard moaned in pain before finally loosing consciousness. Red X turned his attention back to the manager who covered his face with his arms in cowardice.

Red X ignored the manager and proceeded towards the door. The manager, wondering why his body was still intact, looked up and watched Red X as he slowly made his way to the exit.

"W-W-What are you gonna do?" he asked.

"I'm gonna shut down this little powder factory of yours," said Red X.

"That won't do much. Mr. Falcone has over a dozen plants across the city."

"And I'll be visiting them all soon enough."

"Mr. Falcone won't let you get away with this! He'll hurt you bad, I promise you that!"

Red X was already out the door. "He already has," he mumbled under his breath, "and he'll pay for it."

Walking down the hall, Red X walked past a fire alarm. Without even looking He smashed the glass with his fist and set off the alarm then continued on his way.

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On the processing floor.

Many busy workers and diligent guards were taken by great surprise as alarm bells rang throughout the entire building. Seconds after the bell sounded off, the sprinkler system triggered causing a bit more distress to the workers below who were processing the Venus.

The multitude of workers decided that the bluish powder was now a lost cause and simply ran to the nearest exit. The guards overlooking them on the second floor balconies weren't so quick to evacuate the premises as the workers. They did their job and tried, unsuccessfully, to assess the situation by squawking away at their radios trying to know what caused the alarm.

They were distracted and so they couldn't react fast enough to the oncoming threat.

On one of the balconies, a guard, soaked thoroughly from the sprinklers, was holding his radio up to his ear trying to hear the breaking communication between his colleagues. He didn't notice Red X suddenly materialize right next to him immediately. By the time he did notice, it was too late.

"G'day mate," said Red X.

Red X threw a quick and powerful jab at the wide-eyed guard's defenseless face. The impact caused the guard to drop his rifle onto the floor of the balcony and for him to fall on his back. The guard had enough consciousness in him at that moment to clutch his broken nose with both hands. Red X followed up by bringing down a foot onto the guards stomach, knocking all the wind out of him.

Up ahead was another guard who turned around just in time to see his colleague get taken down and knocked out. Red X was now meeting his glare. He raised his AK-47 to try and gun down the crimson thief but never got the chance to do so as Red X closed the gap between them in a fraction of a second.

The thief grabbed the rifles muzzle and pushed it away. He then swiftly threw a chop at the rifle with his other hand and broke the rifle in half right were the loader and the firing pin were located which was the gun's weakest point. With that same hand, Red X quickly made a fist with it and swung it back up effectively backhanding the guard across the cheek.

The guard fell to the metal floor of the balcony, completely knocked out. Red X looked ahead of himself once again and there was yet another guard, some distance away. Red X immediately charged at the guard. But this guard reacted a bit faster then his colleagues and was already aiming his rifle at the approaching caped thief.

The guard pulled hard on the trigger of his AK-47 unleashing a flurry of gunfire. Red X had anticipated this however and had already jumped high into the air just before the guard started firing and the bullets hit nothing but air. Red X did a twist and changed his orientation in mid-air so that when he landed on the balcony, he faced the guard and was behind him.

The guard swung around as quick as he can to face Red X but it was not quick enough. Red X swiftly kicked the rifle out of the guard's hands before the guard could properly aim it. The rifle fell over the railings and on to the lower first floor.

Back up on the balcony, the guard tried a new tactic. He threw the best punches he could throw towards the crimson thief which weren't anywhere near good enough to beat Red X who simply parried and blocked all his attempts. Soon enough, Red X countered by swiftly throwing his own fist towards the guard's chest after parrying one of the guard's unsuccessful hooks.

The guard stumbled back slightly from the hit. He tried to recover but couldn't do so in time as Red X quickly delivered a roundhouse kick high directly to the guard's cheek. The impact was strong enough to knock the guard over the railing and down onto one of the many wooden tables where the Venus was being prepared on the ground floor.

The guard smashed right through the table and crushed it under his weight. While he didn't receive any fatal injuries, the guard wasn't gonna be getting up anytime soon. Red X looked down at the unconscious guard to make sure. That's when he heard someone yelling out an order to him.

"You! Freeze!" exclaimed a voice nearby.

Red X looked up and spotted three more guards that just arrived on the balcony adjacent the one Red x was on and a few good meters away as well. All three of the guards already aimed their very threatening AK-47 rifles at Red X. Red X was smart enough to know not to follow an order to freeze when there is a multitude of hostile firearms aimed at your person.

Red X dashed back the way he came just as the three guards began firing. Bullets loudly sparked and ricocheted against metal surfaces like the balcony's railing and the wall a short distance behind the balcony, yet none of the shots seemed to have hit Red X himself. Red X leapt into the air and over the railing. The guards followed-up with their aim but found nothing to aim at when Red X suddenly disappeared in mid-air.

The guards searched around frantically but couldn't find any sign of the crimson thief. Red X soon reappeared at one of the balcony's ends and finally grabbed the guards' attention. The closest guard to red X tried to aim his rifle at the thief but was sooner met with a flying kick straight to his jaw. The guard naturally fell down and was knocked out and Red X landed just ahead of the guard in a crouch.

The two remaining guards on the quickly aimed their rifles at Red X who met their rifles with a stoic glance. Red X quickly sprung up, throwing an x-shuriken at the closer guard's rifle, causing him to drop it from the impact. Red X then quickly extended his other and launching a glowing x-taser which delivered a massive electrical surge as it impacted the farthest guard rendering him unconscious.

The middle guard, who was still standing but now disarmed, charged at Red X with a switchblade. Red X made his own x-blades appear out of his hands and parried the guard's initial thrust with his switchblade and every other succeeding thrust after.

Seeing an opportunity, Red X, after parrying a few thrust from the guard's switchblade, kneed the guard in the stomach knocking the wind out of him. Red X then retracted the twin x-blades from the top of his hands, grabbed onto the guard's collar and chucked him right off the railing. The guard fell a short distance as one of the many wooden tables broke his fall much like the way it did earlier. The guard was out cold.

All was quiet for but a brief moment as four more guards burst through one of the large cargo doors on the ground floor. They all looked up onto the balconies above them and soon spotted Red X staring back at them. The spread themselves out into a wide square formation as they stopped in the center of the floor. They were all armed with AK-47's, as usual, and quickly aimed up at Red X.

As they started firing their rifles, Red X evaded the barrage of bullets by quickly leaping into the air, over the railing. While in mid-air, Red X threw what looked like an ordinary x-shuriken onto the floor right in the middle of the four man formation. It was soon revealed that it wasn't an ordinary x-shuriken since half-a-second after it impacted the ground, it exploded like a grenade.

The shockwave caused by the sudden explosion from the x-bomb caused the four guards to suddenly fly into different directions away from the blast area. They were all knocked-out and down for the count. Red X was the sole person standing.

He stood there, in the middle of the floor amongst fallen guards around him under the pouring indoor rain of the sprinklers. He looked aside and saw that water washing away what remained of the blue power drug. He watched as the powder dissolved into the water and the water carry it down the flood drains located along the concrete floor.

He calculated that, considering the current street value of this drug, Falcone has just lost over three or four million dollars worth of goods. But that was only the tip of the ice burg. There were so many more he could do, so many more he could destroy and slowly, agonizingly, Falcone will collapse on himself.

This was his justice. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, as they said in the old days. Falcone took something from him, and now he will take whatever he can from Falcone.

Red X started moving forward towards the exit. On the way, he decided to add the finishing touches to his mission at that plant. As he walked, he began randomly tossing x-bombs towards the many apparatus that were used to mix and create the drug. Beakers and test tubes flew across the room, propelled by the explosions.

There were also a few flammable chemicals as it turned out and they ignited in the heat of the explosions of the x-bombs. They then caused a chain reaction which caused more and more of the chemicals to ignite creating a massive inferno surrounding the outer perimeter of the floor. That's another couple million bucks lost to Falcone, thought Red X to himself.

But this was not yet the time to celebrate, Red X knew. There was more to come, more to take. This was only the beginning, a preview of things to come.

Red X walked out of the building, looking forward, and never looking back.

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The following afternoon.

What was once a peaceful district suddenly turned into a veritable disco for police and news media alike. The site was the initially unassuming milk processing plant which was now half-burned down and highly unusable as of then.

Police have blocked off the site with patrol cars, vans and the usual "do not cross" yellow tape that wrapped around the police barriers and the multitude of entrances and exits of the plant like a gift wrapping ribbon of some kind.

Throughout most of the morning and the lunch hour, a parade of handcuffed men was escorted out of the building by armed swat team members. They were later followed by other men carrying a whole bunch of confiscated weaponry, most of which were AK-47 rifles. It became apparent after that looks were deciving when it came to this place.

A myriad of JCPD crime scene investigators, forensics detectives, and all that other good jazz, soon swarmed all over the site like a pack of lions on a hunted prey. And, when the lions have had their fill, the news media came swarming as well, like a pack of vultures looking for table scraps.

There was already a flurry of news vans that crowded the outside of the plant. Field reporters were already recording their statements with the whole scene as a backdrop, the video of which will probably be played in the evening news of the many networks that serve the city.

The police did a good enough job in preventing the media from getting any of the more sensitive information. But as soon as one of the detectives would come out of the plant they would be immediately swarmed by a pack of ravenous field reporters and their cameramen about the incident.

"Detective," asked a reporter, "do you know what caused the fire?"

"Was it a mechanical flaw?" asked another.

"Was this a case of arson?" asked another.

"Is this a terrorist attack? asked another.

"Was there a meta-human presence?" asked another.

The flurry of questions and camera lenses continued as the detective tried to walk down to his car. He was, like every other crime investigator throughout history, very annoyed at the press. His ex-partner warned him about this after retiring from the force: bad manners are the mark of a good journalist. The detective saw that the journalists were indeed very good.

"Look," spoke up the detective, "This is a crime scene and you all know that we cannot disclose any information until the investigation is over. You're just gonna have to wait until then when we release our official statement, alright."

At that point, a relatively familiar voice gave out a question. "Can you confirm the rumors that this plant was actually a front to one of Adrian Falcone's Venus processing plants?"

That question stopped the detective dead in his tracks and all was silent for about half-a-second. The question seemed to have acted as a kind of steroid to the reporters as they began to ask the same question in a much more aggressive fashion.

The detective was now drowning in questions and he couldn't answer them even if he wanted to. It seemed he didn't know, otherwise he would've answered with something by then. The original person to ask the question knew that there were no more prospects from that guy. Coincidentally, the person who originally asked the question was Jane Franklin.

She decided that questioning as going nowhere so she tried something else. She exited the frenzied crowed of reporters and med her way to the side of the building, being careful not to be seen. She approached what looked like to be a fire exit down an alley which wasn't guarded. She made sure to look around and make sure no one saw here go in.

Jane snuck in through that fire exit and into the processing floor of the plant where there was no shortage of cops, that was for sure. Cops in uniform and casually dressed detectives were all over the place looking over some suspicious looking laboratory apparatus.

Jane managed to hide behind some tall aluminum drums that once upon a time held fresh milk for processing but have since been left unused as of late. She took out a small digital camera and set it so no flash and no sound would come out as she took a picture.

She cautiously peeked around the corner of the drums and took a multitude of photos of the surrounding floors. She was able to do it all with out anyone noticing her. After a while, she was satisfied at the number of pictures she took and quickly hid the camera in her coat. She then started moving around more, keeping her head low.

She moved all the way to the back of the processing area where there was fewer cops around. Around her, there were plenty of scattered glass pieces and broken wood hat looked like they were part of a table or something. Under some of the fallen debris, she noticed a figurine of the Venus de Milo peeking out of the rubbish.

She picked it up and saw that it was cracked. Looking around once more to make sure no one was within earshot, Jane smashed the figurine against the floor and out of the hollow statue came a bunch of small plastic bags containing a blue powder. Jane had little question in her mind what the powder was. This was one of Falcone's places, it was confirmed.

While one piece e of curiosity was entertained, another rose to take its place. Who did this? That was the one thing Jane couldn't answer yet. Someone, who obviously didn't like Adrian Falcone, struck this place hard and made sure it could never be used again. Who could it possibly be?

At that point, a glint of light reflected on a small object on the floor and caught Jane's eye. There was something else on the floor next to the rubbish. Jane, at first, thought it was just another piece of garbage. But she reached for it and picked it up and gave it a closer look. It was a small red four-tipped, x-shaped shuriken of some kind, at least that was her initial thought was. She eyed it curiously.

She then heard some voices heading her way. Some detectives looking for more evidence she supposed. She took it as her cue to leave. She cautiously made her wake back to the fire exit and snuck out. Soon, she was gone from the scene and no one ever knew she was there.

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Back at the Clear Springs Hotel

Jane was once again on her bed and at her laptop processing some new information and she didn't even bother taking off her coat. She displayed a map of the city on the screen. On the map there were several buildings marked by green circles. She moved her cursor to one of the marked buildings and clicked on it. The green circle turned into a white letter x.

"That's one of those plants down," she said to herself, "and a few more to go."

She closed her laptop, putting it into sleep mode. She looked beside it and there was the small red x she retrieved from the plant. There was something about it that really caught her attention. She put it back down and reached for the remote control and turned it on to the news.

She watched it for a while as it reported on the recent incident in the processing plant and several other things that were unrelated to each other. The report on the plant didn't amount to much and it seems that the police aren't making much progress when it came to certain matters. She started to think that they were no longer even trying.

But that was okay, she told herself. That's what she was here for.

She stepped off her bed and stood in the middle of the room. She watched the news a little more before turning the TV off. She walked to her window and she could see that the sun had finally set and the sky was turning dark. Perfect timing, she thought as she shut the curtains.

"Looks like the game just got bigger," she said, "another player has entered the board."

She moved back to the middle of the room and quickly took off her coat and threw it on the bed. She did the same with her glasses and… her short blond hair. From the top of her head came down long strands of bright red hair. She also reached to fingers to her eyes which she used to carefully remove the contact lenses that were hiding her true eye color, which was a shade of baby blue.

"But that just," she said, "makes the game all the more interesting. It's time to get serious. It's time for ace reporter Jane Franklin to exit the stage"

She continued taking off more articles of clothing and soon her blouse, pants, and boots were on the bed. After all that was gone, it was revealed that the girl was wearing a dark-colored, skin tight suit which covered her entire body from the neck down.

She walked to the side of the bed and pulled out a duffel bag from underneath the bed. She unzipped it and pulled out a pair of gloves, boots, and a utility belt, which she easily put on her person. She reached in again and produced a black cape which she draped over her shoulders behind her. Finally she pulled out a black mask with two pointy ears. She put it on.

"It's time for Barbara Gordon to step in…" she struck a pose, "…as the Batgirl!"

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	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or any other characters associated with Warner Brothers.

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In the early morning hours.

Twilight always has a certain effect among certain people. In the hours that follow shortly after midnight, right when the moon takes on it's full brightness, there is always a slight sense that anything strange and unusual can happen, whether bad or otherwise. It is that one point within a day where logic and reason seem to loose meaning.

On a lonely rooftop, something, most people would consider a bit strange, was happening..

The Silencer, a tall man dressed in a sharp suit and a fedora, was standing over the edge of the roof, looking over the city with emotionless gray eyes. His long white scarf waved slightly in the gentle breeze. His hands were busy as he held his antique looking dagger and meticulously polished it with a handkerchief.

He kept on wiping the blade slowly and caringly, as if it was the most important thing in the world. The shiny gleaming condition of the blade wouldn't really give the impression that the small weapon has seen years of bloodshed.

For a good long time, Silencer didn't move or stop his meticulous polishing of his dagger. He didn't even blink. After a while he sheathed his dagger and reached into his other pockets to retrieve a cellular phone. He stared down at it and browsed through the menus eventually opening a recorded voice message which he played well over a dozen times that night already.

The phone played the voice of Detective Benedict; "We have a problem. Meet me tomorrow at the usual time and place. I have new orders from Mr. Falcone."

Silencer pocketed away his phone. He then reached into his suit once again and took out his dagger. He began polishing it once again as he stared out into the city. There was a problem. He had a job to do and he was looking forward to it. After all, how big a problem it must be if they need his help?

He wished he could smile a bit. He wished that there was a way he could somehow express his excitement. Though it didn't show, his blood was boiling with anxiety, so much that he almost couldn't hold it back.

Unfortunately, he lost the ability to show any kind of emotion well over a lifetime ago.

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Morning in Jump City.

The city, like any living thing, has a time for sleeping and a time for waking up. No one can really tell when to indicate which time it is, waking up and sleeping. Some say the city starts to sleep when the last bit of sunlight finally disappears from the night sky and the streetlight start to illuminate the streets. Some also say that a city is really awake as soon as the first car horn, followed by an annoyed driver's complaint of his lateness for work, is heard.

Looking at the city at that time, you could say that it was probably wide awake by now as the streets are loud with the sound of car horns. People now fill the streets, going in several directions at different paces to different destinations.

But for Nick Davenport, it was still time for sleeping.

He was slumped on his bed in a white shirt and pajama bottoms he uses for sleepwear. He was snoring very loudly, indicating the deepness of his slumber. His digital radio alarm clock was tuned to his favorite station and has been playing for some time now. He didn't have the energy to hear it let alone to turn it off.

There was a knock on his door followed by his mother's voice. "Nicky? Are you awake yet?"

Nick was slightly stirred by Tomoyo's call and grumbled something into his pillow. After a moment of silence, his bedroom door opened. Tomoyo peeked in to see her son still snoozing on the bed and made a face about it.

"Nicky," Tomoyo called out again, "get up already."

"I'm on vacation," was his only reply.

"I know that. But it's past nine and I've breakfast waiting on the table."

"It can wait."

"You also have a phone call on hold. A friend of yours, I think."

"It can wait too. Let me get some rest, mom…"

"It's a girl named Tara."

Nick's eyes shot open. In less than ten seconds he was up, out of bed, past Tomoyo and out of his bedroom, in the living room, and finally clutching the phone's receiver to the side of his face. Tomoyo, watched Nick's record breaking dash to the telephone and had a mild look of humor on her face.

"Hello?" said nick to the phone, "oh, hi Tara… no, you didn't catch me at a bad time… just catching up on some sleep… yeah, you could say that…"

In the middle of the conversation, Tomoyo had already exited Nick's room and made her way back to the kitchen area. She sat down on her chair in front of her plate of freshly made waffles and glass of orange juice. But she mostly ignored the food and continued to watch Nick as he continued his conversation on the phone. She smiled slightly as she watched.

They grow up so fast…

"No, I'm not doing anything this afternoon…." said Nick, "why do you ask?… oh?… um, sure…. I'd love to… right… got it… see you later then."

With that, Nick hung up. He lingered near the phone for a while, grinning uncontrollably. Tomoyo smiled even wider and giggled a bit, obviously entertained.

"Have a good talk?" she asked suddenly.

Nick snapped out of it and turned to her. "Uh, sure…"

"Your breakfast is getting cold. Hurry up and eat it."

"Right…"

Nick took his seat, blushing slightly in front of is mom. He said his graces and began eating breakfast, which was the same set as Tomoyo's. They ate without much conversation. As soon as they were finished, Nick collected the dishes and started washing them in the sink. Tomoyo went towards the couch and started watching TV.

Even thought the TV was on, Tomoyo still kept glancing at Nick, his recent telephone call still fresh in her mind. She couldn't help but smile at him for his luck in finding a girl. At least that is what she thought the situation was between him and Tara. But after seeing his reaction from the bedroom at the mere mention of her name left little room for doubt in Tomoyo's head.

"So I'm guessing you're going out later, huh?" said Tomoyo.

Nick nearly dropped the glass he was rinsing. "W-What?"

"Do you have enough clothes?"

Nick went wide-eyed as he spun around. "The heck is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just asking if you have something to wear. After all, it's been a while since we did the laundry."

Nick stared at her with narrowed eyes. He didn't like where the line of conversation was going.

"Oh, I know!" said Tomoyo, "How about that denim jacket of yours? It'll look really great on you, Nicky, and you hardly wear at all."

"Uh…."

"Or do you want to go with a more formal look? I think you still have some polo shirts hanging in the closet. But do you have any shined shoes?"

"…Mom…?"

"Hmm, that might send the wrong signal. Casual might be the best way to go after all."

"Mom?"

"By the way, do you have a plan for the day or are you just gonna wing it. I know this great café down on Oliver street. They have great coffee there."

"Mom! Please! We are not having this conversation."

"What? Is it so weird that I'm a little interested in your date? I'm your mother after all."

"Mom, with all due respect, that's strictly my business."

"Oh, Nicky, I know that, and I respect that too. But still, I don't want you to do a half-assed job either."

"Mom, please…"

"You don't want to break up whatever you have going on with her."

"There's nothing going on!"

Tomoyo gave him that look you give to a guy when you know they were lying. "Mmmm-hmmmm"

"Where just friends that have nothing to do all summer. We're just… hanging out."

"Right… whatever you say, Nicky…"

Nick grumbled under his breath. "Look, I'm still a little sleepy so I'm gonna catch a few more Z's. Wake me when it's lunch time."

"Sure thing, hon."

Nick grumbled something else under his breath. He was a little bit annoyed having just received dating tips from his own mother. That was the last thing he needed. For all she knew there was nothing going on between Nick and Tara… or so he told himself.

As he walked towards his bedroom, Nick pondered slightly about that. He thought back to the last time they were together at the end of finals week. He thought about that time near the end of the day when they almost… Even Nick wasn't sure what was going on then.

He decided to ignore it for now. Questions get answered with time. All he wanted then was just to get a little bit more sleep. Nights have been a little rough on him as of recent times for reasons he wouldn't want to disclose on anyone at the moment. Nick reached his door and went in his room.

"Oh, by the way," Tomoyo called out, "make sure you guys bring protection later."

There was a sound of random things suddenly crashing to the floor which was coming from Nick's room. Less that three seconds later, Nick's head popped out of the door frame with an almost ghostly pale skin color and eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"What!" he exclaimed

"You don't expect her to ride around on your bike without a helmet on, do you?"

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Somewhere else in the city, later in the afternoon.

Even in the brightest summer day when the sun is at its highest and hottest, there will always be somewhere in the city where sunlight will never touch. Every city has places like these, some more than others. Sewers, alleys, basements of closed down buildings, subway tunnels, just use your imagination.

It is in these dark places where most of the city's undesirable tenants tend to congregate. Thugs, and pickpockets, gangs and hoodlums, degenerates, again, just use your imagination. As most could tell, places like this ain't exactly tourist spots. Most people would rather not know about the activities that go on in places like these but it is one of these places, something interesting is about to commence.

In an unused subway terminal, scheduled for demolition a little later in the next few months, a man in a really long trench coat sat in one of the benches in the run-down concourse. He had a large set of earphones over his head and his music can be heard slightly in the empty atmosphere of the empty concourse. He was tapping his foot to the beat and he didn't seem to care about the fact that he was alone.

After a while another guy came down to the concourse. This guy looked nervous and shivery as he slowly made his way to the guy in the trench coat and earphones. The said guy noticed the new guy's entrance and grinned. He stood up from the bench and stood in the middle of the floor. The two finally came within a couple feet from each other and started talking.

"What'll it be pal?" asked the first guy.

"Venus…" replied the first, a little shaky.

The first guy, apparently a dealer, pulled out a Venus de Milo figurine from his coat. "You got the cash?"

The second guy, apparently an addict, produced a small wad of bills from his own pockets and handed it to the dealer. The dealer took the wad of cash with his other hand but did not give the figurine to the addict. The dealer counted the cash in his hand as the addict waited anxiously. A second later, the dealer had a disappointed look on his face.

"This isn't enough, pal," said the dealer.

"What?" exclaimed the addict out of surprise, "B-But that's the exact price I paid last time."

"Prices went up ten percent as of last night. You're gonna have to fork up a bit more than this, buddy."

"What do you mean prices went up? What for?"

"Supply and demand, pal. Basics of economics. Demand is at an all-time high and that's good. Problem is that our supply—for whatever damn reason—just plummeted. You understand now?"

"Why? What happened?"

"None of your business, pal. And if you know what's good for you, you'll stop asking questions. Now are you gonna take this or not?"

The addict thought about it for a second and only a second. He then reached into his pockets once again and produced a few more dollar bills and gave it to the dealer. The dealer grinned, taking apparent satisfaction at the other's desire for the product. After taking the extra money into his hand, the dealer slowly handed over the figurine to the other man.

"Sorry, no deal here, boys."

A girl's voice, which seemed to have come from nowhere, suddenly broke the silence and caused both men to freeze in their actions. They looked around frantically but couldn't find anyone in the less-than-sufficient lighting of the old concourse. Naturally then, they weren't able to react when suddenly the figurine in the dealer's hand suddenly exploded when it was hit by a fast moving projectile.

That caused both the men to suddenly fall on their butts and the dealer to drop the addict's money which was still in his hand. The addict, feeling an overwhelming sense of panic, made a grab for his cash and dashed out the way he came in.

The dazed dealer looked about and saw something shiny stuck on a nearby concrete pillar. It was a small blade-like object and the dealer didn't immediately recognize it as something that was commonly known as a batarang.

"Up here buddy!" said the mystery girl's voice.

The dealer looked up towards a nearby broken vending machine. He saw that there was a partially hidden figure sitting on top of it. He wondered how he didn't notice the person come in at any time. A moment later, he got his answer.

The figure hopped off the vending machine and landed on the floor with the finesse of a professional gymnast. The figure was really a girl, about five feet in height, wearing a skin-tight body suit and a cape. The dealer took one look at the bright yellow crest on the girl's chest and immediately turned pale with fear.

The Batgirl.

The dealer tried desperately crawling away from the legendary crime fighter. He never got further than an inch when he felt a hand grab the collar on his trench coat. He was soon yanked off the floor and promptly turned around to face his adversary. He found himself being threateningly held by the collar of his coat. Batgirl was staring at him with a wry grin and narrow eyes which made him very uncomfortable.

"I need to talk with you, buddy," she said.

"L-L-L-Listen, lady," he said nervously, "I-I-I'm just a middle man. I don't know anything important."

"Don't give me that. I know that you are one of the few guys who come within direct contact with Adrian Falcone's personal assistant, Bruno. You're gonna tell me when and where you guys meet and the I'll pay him a little visit."

"I-I-I can't help you. Bruno and I have stopped meeting."

She gripped him harder. "How come I don't believe you?"

"I swear, I'm telling the truth,"

"That's what they all say… while they still had their teeth."

"P-P-Please don't hurt me. I'm just trying to make a living here."

Batgirl was starting to get a little frustrated she was about to press the matter more, thus she was unable to notice a bunch of shady figures coming out of the shadows behind her. The dealer took one glance at the shady figures and did his best not to look relieved. Backup has arrived.

There were four of the shady men in total. Even in the darkness, one would be able to clearly see that each man carried a long, blunt weapon in their hand. They all looked to be really big, easily towering over both the dealer and Batgirl herself. They each wore a sadistic grin which grew as they came closer to the dealer and the crime fighter.

"Look pal," Batgirl continued, "I've been having a pretty lousy week. While that's none of your business, you should know that I'm not in a particularly lenient mood, if you get my drift. Now you're gonna tell me everything I want to know… and you're gonna tell that guy behind me that if he doesn't put down that pipe, I'll break his nose with it."

The thug closest behind Batgirl suddenly froze, less than three feet behind her. The dealer wore an expression of utter shock. Batgirl's expression remained indifferent to the situation. After a moment of rather intense silence, the thug directly behind Batgirl decided to take action himself. He raised his long pipe and gave out a loud snarl.

"Rrrrrgghh!"

Batgirl reacted almost instantly, she tossed the dealer towards the bench, where he was previously sitting on, and she herself dash in the opposite direction. The thug's pipe hit nothing but the cold floor and caused cracks to form on the tiles and a loud clanging sound.

Batgirl didn't step more than a few yards to the side of the thug and quickly countered by tossing a batarang at the thug's pipe weapon. The impact of the projectile against the hard steel of the pipe caused the thug to drop the weapon onto the floor and it started rolling all over the place.

The thug tried to recover from that attack but couldn't do it fast enough as Batgirl was already in front of him before he knew it. She kneed him hard in the stomach causing him to drop on his knees, bend over, and clutch his stomach in pain.

Meanwhile, the pipe managed to have rolled itself back to Batgirl. She kicked it up off the floor. The pipe went to about chest level where she backhanded it towards the hunched over thug. The pipe went flying towards the guy's nose and instantly broke it on impact. The thug fell over and landed on his back, completely knocked-out.

Batgirl stood tall in the middle of the floor and looked pass the fallen thug. There were three more of his kind directly behind him, all of which, Batgirl observed closely, carried a blunt weapon of some kind. The man farthest to her left carried a wooden baseball bat. The man in the middle carried a golf club. Te man to her farthest right carried a long torque wrench.

Batgirl spared the dealer, back on the bench, a brief look. "A bunch of bodyguards hidden in the shadows, huh? Real sleazy pal…"

The dealer's face returned its expression of worry. "G-G-G-Get her!"

The three remaining thugs complied, starting with the one in the center of the group. He charged in with his golf club held high, ready to comedown and smash Batgirl's skull. Batgirl grinned in confidence and struck a ready pose.

The golf club came swinging down but missed the caped crime fighter as she simply sidestepped out of the club's path. The club struck the floor, cracking the tiles. Batgirl returned the gesture with a karate chop to the thug's wrists causing him to drop the golf club. Batgirl followed-up quickly by smacking the thug's face , stunning him.

She finished off by spinning forward slightly and delivering a roundhouse kick right to the back of the thug's head, sending him falling forward a short distance. The blow rendered the man unconscious. Batgirl turned her sights back at the remaining two thugs and struck a pose again. With one of her outstretched hands, she motioned for the two thugs to try and charged her if they can.

The two thugs exchanged glances for a moment as if they were asking each other for some help. They both charged at her at the same time but the man with the baseball bat went ahead. Batgirl stood her ground and mentally formulated her attack pattern in her head.

The man with the baseball bat swung horizontally as if he was really trying to hit a homerun. Batgirl sprung up with her feet and flipped her entire body up and over the baseball bat as it passed under her, inches from her cowl. She landed gracefully on her feet while the thug awkwardly stumbled forward from the inertia of his weapon not hitting anything but air.

The second thug, by that time, had already come within striking distance and couldn't react in time as Batgirl, just after landing from her flip, she quickly drove a foot up towards the chin of the thug with the torque wrench. Batgirl managed to knock-out the man with that one single kick to the face and sent him flying backwards.

Meanwhile, the thug with the baseball bat was just finding his feet again and tried to mount another attack. Batgirl saw all this in advance and promptly spun around again finished with a backhanded fist to the thug's cheekbone. The thug was knocked off his feet, spun around once in the air, and landed flat on his face, unconscious.

Batgirl stood tall among the fallen thugs, smiling victoriously. "Well that was fun. Now about that informati--"

Batgirl suddenly noted that the dealer was gone from the bench. Under her mask, she raised an eyebrow as she heard the pitter-patter of running feet. She looked in the direction of the sound and saw the dealer dashing for the exit not very far from her. Batgirl didn't look the least bit alarmed and actually look more bored.

"Why do they always run?" she asked herself.

She pulled out what looked like three small, black spheres that were attached to each other and flung them towards the dealer. In mid-air, the three spheres stretched out via three long cables which effectively turned it into a bola. The bola wrapped around the man's legs causing him to trip and fall.

The dealer tried to crawl away which was pretty useless as Batgirls suddenly appeared in front of him, blocking his way. He flashed her a nervous grin. Batgirl then grabbed his collar, hoisted him off the ground, and stared him straight in the eye. He was sweating bullets.

Batgirl grinned wryly. "Now about that information…"

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Elsewhere in the city.

Nick was riding down the streets as usual in his Yamaha YZF-R1. Most days, Nick would ride for the heck of it and not really care where he was going. He usually just wanted to avoid that bored feeling one usually got from standing in one place for too long. He hated that and he would often find himself wandering, whether on wheels or on foot, just to avoid that feeling as it crept up on him.

But on that afternoon, he actually needed to be somewhere. That particular place happened to be the Jump City Museum. But that wasn't really his true destination since it was closed off till further notice (gee, he wondered why…). It was simply a meeting point where he'll, appropriately enough, meet someone. Tara to be exact.

It was their agreed meeting spot. It was close to Tara's place and a familiar landmark. It was also only about a five minute ride from Nick's place. Convenient and relatively safe; perfect choice, Nick thought to himself.

He arrived there shortly enough and parked his bike right nest to the sidewalk in between some other cars. He stepped off and took off his helmet. Coincidentally, he current wardrobe consisted of, black sneakers, light gray pants, a plain whit shirt, and a dark blue denim jacket.

How he made the decision to wear that particular jacket was beyond him.

He looked around for a bit and finally spotted Tara. She was standing near the main doors of the museum wearing slippers, bell-bottom denim jeans, and a white blouse. She had a small gym bag slung over her shoulder to hold her helmet and other essentials. Her hair was fixed in place with a butterfly hairclip.

She spotted Nick as he approached and ran up to him. She gave him a soft hug which caused him to blush a bit.

Nick simply smiled back. "Well, you're here early."

"Not really," she replied nonchalantly.

"So where do you wanna go this time?"

"Uh… I don't know actually."

"… Oh… Okay then, where do you usually hangout?"

"Nowhere in particular. I guess I just wanted to see you. I never really planned this day. How about you Nick? You know a place where we could hang for a while?"

There was a short and awkward silence then. Nick scratched the back of his head while Tara dug the concrete with her toes. After a short moment, Nick finally coughed to call her attention.

"Well, I think I know this place…"

"Really? Where is it?"

"Well… I heard that there's this really nice café down at Oliver street. There coffee is supposed to be really good."

"Swell then! We'll check it out and go do other stuff later. That cool with you, Nick?"

"That's cool. Let's go then."

They both made their way down to Nick's bike on the street. The mounted it and as they did, Nick made it a point to remind Tara to wear her helmet. She complied rather cheerfully. When everything was set, Nick started his bike and they were off, headed towards Oliver street to find a good café.

How he made the decision to go to that particular place was beyond him.

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Author's note: One more chapter down. Thanks to all those who have reviewed to this day. All your inputs have been greatly helpful. I would like to apologize for some of my bad habits when writing. I am doing my best to improve and I will try to avoid those bad habits (emphasis on 'try'). Please R&R! Till next time. 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: blah blah blah Teen Titans blah blah blah not owning blah blah blah…

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Nighttime in Jump City.

Almost anyone who's lived here for more that two seconds know that there is hardly anything remotely existent as a "quiet night" in Jump City, whereas a quiet night would entail a night where absolutely nothing goes wrong. But, if one would look hard enough in all the right places, there will always be something going on. Always.

Case in point, a seemingly closed down office building somewhere in the western district of Jump City. The place was supposed to be closed and evacuated due to a recent new owner, and on the outside it would certainly look that way to any bystander. But then again, walls have a thing for hiding certain things and there is always that age-old saying that things are not always what they seem.

This building, like a few others scattered around the city, was just one of Adrian Falcone's secrete Venus production plants. On a regular basis for the recent months, this building has been churning out the increasingly popular drug by the truckloads. Though, up until recently, production was forced to speed up due to unforeseen complications.

The increased orders from the plant were a hard transition as is but, for this particular night, the building, and a good number of its current occupants, is going to have even more problems to deal with. Already this is obvious by the fact, if anyone cared to look, that several men in conspicuous attire came dashing out of the front door.

Curiosity pricked, a few night wandering bystanders watched the unusual sight as more panicked men began to exit the supposedly vacant office building. They weren't watching for long as an ear-shattering explosion exploded through several of the upper floors.

Debris and broken glass rained down onto the streets as crowds of people began immediately evacuating the area. Bright orange fireballs burst out of the newly opened windows. Soon, pretty much nobody hung around the vicinity. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

On a nearby rooftop, about five stories higher than the exploded building, a familiar antihero began to materialize out of thin air. Red X stood on the edge of the roof , overlooking his apparent handiwork for the night. His gleaming black suit, reflected the bright orange blaze and gave the thief a strange aura.

"This isn't going anywhere," he said into the empty air, "I don't think I'm getting any closer to Falcone. None of those stupid managers are worth any of the information I need…"

He brought a hand up to his shoulder. It was sore due to a hit. Red X could remember one of the guards gaining a luck hit with the butt of his AK-47. Fortunately, Red X would not fall so easily and countered quickly enough to regain his ground.

In the long run, that kind of incident was nothing. But to the person under the mask, it was a little bit of a foreboding sign. In his prime, he could run circles around even the most experienced villain and hero alike. The fact that a thug got a lucky shot in indicated to Red x that he was getting a bit slow for some reason.

Looking back, he thought of himself to kind of sloppy ever since he started this little vendetta of his. Up to that point he has already managed to bring down five of Falcone's little plants around the city and he was confident enough that the rest would follow suit. Yet as he progressed, he's been getting sloppier and sloppier. It was bothering him deeply.

He knew, through his extensive combat training through his parents, that a clear mind was the key to doing things the right way. He questioned whether something was bothering him that was ruining his concentration. He couldn't tell, not at that moment at least.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked himself. "I've never been this lousy on the field before."

He looked down on the burning building once again, as if to distract himself from his train of thoughts. He reminded himself what he was doing, what he was here for, what he was doing and for whom. Under the mask, Nick narrowed his eyes. He had a mission to accomplish at the moment. This should be the only thing on his mind.

"No matter," he said softly, "I won't stop here, not until I'm standing over Falcone's grave. I'll find him sooner or later, and when I do…"

He cut himself short of his speech. Slowly he looked over his shoulder as if noticing something. He looked over his shoulder and towards a mess of pipes and air-conditioning motors placed on the rooftop he was standing on. The multitude of metallic machinery created an abundance of shadowed places on the rooftop. Red X eyed a few shadowed spots carefully.

Slowly he turned away his gaze from the shadows and looked back down on the flames of the burning build. He was dead silent and dead still for a long while. The wind blew at his cape. If anything, he seemed to be waiting for something.

A few seconds of silence melted into a whole six minutes or so. Eventually, even the fire was starting to burn away. In the distance, fire engine sirens can be heard coming towards the scene. Red X continued to overlook the sight though it seemed that his mind were somewhere else. Minutes ticked by.

Eventually, the suspense was starting to kill her and Batgirl decided to try and take a step forward in order to see better. As he foot went down on the rooftop gravel, it made a soft sound. Red X's head twitched ever so slightly.

"There," he said softly.

In a flash, Red X did a complete one-eighty and shot an x-taser from his open palm. The glowing x-taser flew straight into one of the shadowed places which Red X conspicuously eye some time ago. Seeing the impending threat, Batgirl went wide-eyed and instinctively jumped upwards and out of the x-taser's way. The projectile impacted with some of the pipes and machinery and caused a small explosion of sparks and electrical bolts.

Batgirl landed gracefully a good distance away from Red X who looked a bit surprised to see the caped crusader. Batgirl wasted no time in counterattacking by producing three batarang from her utility belt and throwing them towards Red X. The thief stood ready, forming an x-blade on his hand.

As the three projectiles headed his way, Red X expertly swiped them out of the air with his bladed hand. All three of the batarang were destroyed in mid-air. For a moment, with his one arm outstretched, Red X looked vulnerable and that's when Batgirl took her chance. The caped crime fighter charged in with a roundhouse kink to the crimson thief's face.

Red X wasn't about to let himself be underestimated and taken down so easily. With his other hand, Red x managed to grab Batgirl's foot before it hit his face. Batgirl was now the one caught off-guard. Red X pushed her away through her leg with a considerable amount of force. Batgirl had to cartwheel in order to avoid landing on her butt.

As soon as she got to her feet, Red X was already charging at her. He threw a myriad of jabs towards Batgirl's person and generally seemed to miss as Batgirl was quite agile enough to evade all of the incoming attacks. Then again, Red X didn't really look like he was trying yet.

At one point, Red X threw a hook which Batgirl naturally evaded it. Red X, however, continued spinning around in the direction of his hook, and brought a backhand in Batgirl's direction. The caped girl, while unable to evade in time, did manage to block the hit with both her arms. Regardless though, the impact sent her sliding backwards on the soles of her feet.

She was able to stop and recover her balance. She regained her composure and faced Red X. The crimson thief in question stood his own ground and spontaneously produced a few x-shaped projectiles on either of his hands. He threw them expertly towards Batgirl.

Using her gymnastic abilities, Batgirl easily dodged all of the incoming projectile, twisting and bending her body to avoid their paths. The x's embedded themselves on several of the machines behind the girl crime fighter. She stood tall again and looked at Red X with a cocky grin on the only revealed part of her face.

"Hah!" she said, "looks like you missed."

"Look again," replied Red X.

Batgirl raised an eyebrow. She glanced behind her at the multiple x-shaped projectiles that were embedded in the machines behind her. They started glowing rather disturbingly. Batgirl went wide-eye and quickly dashed and jumped to the side while Red X quickly took his cape and covered his body with it. The x's were finally revealed to be x-bombs as they detonated.

The machinery around was completely destroyed and pieces of twisted metal flew everywhere. Bright yellow fireballs gave way to black mushroom clouds. Batgirl picked herself up from where she landed. Red X stood with his arms crossed, watching in mild amusement much to Batgirl's embarrassment.

"Fancy meeting you here," said Red X, "Aren't you suppose to be in…"

"I'm vacationing," Batgirl snapped back, "what's it to you?"

"Does bird boy know you're here?"

"Uh… that's not the point!"

"Testy… So what is the point, if I may be so bold to ask?"

"That's none of your business."

"You spy on me, I make it my damn business, girl. What do you want with me?"

"I want to know what exactly it is that links you to Falcone. Whay are you going around blowing up his plants?"

Red X didn't answer immediately. Batgirl waited fro a while but it looked like the thief had no intention of answering that particular question. As a detective, this caused even more suspicion to rise within her.

"Answer me!" ordered Batgirl.

Red X kept quiet for a short while before finally answering. "That's none of your business, girl."

"What? Who do you think you're talking to?"

"A prepubescent little brat still playing dress-up, that's who. My reasons are mine alone and they don't concern you or anyone of your 'kind'. So leave me out of whatever it is you're planning."

With that, Red X promptly turned around and started calmly walking towards the edge of the rooftop. Batgirl looked a bit surprised but focused on the business at hand. No way was she letting a suspicious character go that easily, and not without a settled fight either.

"Hey!" she called out, "We're not done here!"

"Oh, yes we are…" he replied nonchalantly.

Without so much as a parting glance, Red X jumped off the rooftop edge. Batgirl went wide-eyed and ran to the edge. Peering out over the edge, she could see Red X's free-falling body. She then saw Red X suddenly launch a grappling cable from one of his gauntlets, hooked it to the edge of another building's roof and swung away.

"…No we are not!" said Batgirl.

She pulled out her own grappling hook from her utility belt and expertly leapt off the roof. In mid-air she shot her Grappling hook towards the same building Red X used. Meanwhile, Red X had landed on the new building and took a quick glance behind him. He clearly saw Batgirl swinging on her own grappling cable, closing up on him.

"Persistent…" he commented softly.

He dashed towards the edge of the rooftop he was on just as Batgirl as landing on the gravel. Batgirl saw Red x ran then leapt off the edge. She gave immediate chase. Red X, in the meantime, landed on the adjacent rooftop of the next building which was slightly lower than the previous. He landed I a roll and quickly got back up and started dashing for the next rooftop.

Batgirl followed suit, leaping, landing, and rolling just like the crimson thief ahead of her. Her considerable amount of experience was allowing her to keep up at a reasonably sound distance, but she wasn't really gaining. Still she wasn't gonna give up so easily.

Red X, after leaping once again, ended up on the next rooftop which was just about the same height as the previous building. He didn't bother looking back as he could here the sound of gravel being displaced by Batgirls rushing feet. Red x charged for the edge again, Batgirl hot on his heels.

On the third rooftop, Red X did momentarily look back over his shoulder and got a brief glimpse of Batgirl leaping off the previous rooftop. He was mildly entertained at how far she might take this chase. He was genuinely interested in seeing exactly how persistent she was and decided to have a little fun.

As before he dashed for the edge.

Batgirl landed on the third rooftop just as Red X was reaching the edge. She noted the fact that this particular building was actually in the corner of a cross section on the street. The next building was at least eight lanes of traffic, plus the middle divider and two sidewalks, away from this rooftop. She ran up to the edge and looked over.

Red X was in the middle of a graceful looking swan dive. About halfway down the building, a couple dozen stories above the pavement, Red X shot another grappling cable from his arm. It hooked onto the side of the building he was just on, and he swung from the cable over the street. Back on the rooftop, Batgirl gave a look of amazement but it didn't last long as she narrowed her eyes and readied he grappling launcher.

Red X reached full swing and detached his cable and reeled it back. He flew through the air in a wide arching back flip. At the point when he was upside-down, he looked out to see where Batgirl was. He could clearly see her swing in the same manner he did, still chasing him by following his every move. Under the mask, he grinned in amusement.

Once right side-up again in mid-air. Red X quickly launched another grappling cable from his other hand and caught hold of the corner of the rooftop of a close by sky rise. Again, he swung from the cable and all the way round the corner of the building.

Batgirl, as usual, was trailing not too far behind. She was just launching her grappling hook towards the same rooftop corner as Red X. She couldn't help but feel that he was somehow toying with her a little bit. Still, she knew that she'd be able to catch up sooner or later at this pace. She swung round the corner and she spotted the thief a little ways ahead of her, standing on the edge of a nearby rooftop.

Red X was looking down on her again as she was swinging up to where he was standing. He gave out a sound that sounded like a mild chuckle. He turned his sights below her, onto the street. He noticed a large truck with a large container on its trailer was heading his way. Slowly, he let himself fall of the edge of the roof.

On the way down, he twisted his body slightly so that his gaze met that of Batgirl, who was nothing short of looking flabbergasted, on her way up. Red X then twisted his body again so that he was facing the building's side. He unleashed an x-blade on each hand and embedded them on the side of the building, effectively slowing his decent.

Red X precisely calculated his decent with that of the movement of the truck he saw a while ago. When he deemed himself at the right height, he kicked off the building with his feet. He flew across the air gracefully on his back. Spectacularly, he landed right on the top of the truck's trailing container. He looked up to see Batgirl.

Speaking of whom, Batgirl was already in the process of redirecting her route in order to keep up the chase. Before she could reach the rooftop, she immediately reeled in her grappling cable. She then twisted her body slightly in mid-air so that she ran adjacent to the side of the building.

She ended up running on the side of the building in an attempt to catch0-up to the truck on which Red X was on. As she gradually started descending, she re-aimed her grappling gun and shot it towards another adjacent building. From it, she swung down all the way to street level. Red x continued to watch her, unmoving from where he stood on the trailer.

Batgirl carefully navigated her swing until she was satisfied with her position. At the right moment, she detached the grappling cable from the building side and dropped right on the edge of the truck's container. For a moment, she awkwardly flailed her hands trying to regain some lost balance. She managed to stand tall and faced off Red X who was in the opposite end of the trailer.

"Very persistent…" quietly commented Red X.

Batgirl struck a ready fighting pose though she was slightly panting. "You ready to give-up yet?"

Red X fought back a laugh. "Listen. Why don't you and I just call it a night and maybe you could get a drink or something to cool you down a bit."

"Not until I get some answers!"

She charged at him with raised fists. Red X prepared himself by taking a stance. Batgirl reached Red x and immediately threw a jab at Red X's face. The thief expertly moved his head a couple inches to the side in order to evade the jab. Batgirl followed up with her other hand but Red X only evaded it in the same way.

Red X grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her in close. As she came closer he couched down and raised his other arm and positioned it so that it ran parallel to her belly. Once her body made contact with his arm, he sprung up with his legs and effectively catapulted her over him. Batgirl was taken off-guard by al this.

She flailed a bit in mid-air but managed to regain control as she landed right at the edge of the container, right where the cab was attached. Red X took this moment to act, knowing she was a little distracted. He moved in close and began throwing an array of jabs which he intentionally missed her with. His objective was again to make her loose he balance by forcing her to evade his attacks.

His little plan was working as Batgirl found it extremely awkward to keep on moving her body out of the way of Red X's jabs while at the same time trying not to fall off the edge of the container. Again, she was getting the sense that he was sort of making fun of her. One jab went high to her face, she had to bend back matrix-style to avoid it, which was a mistake since it transferred most of her weight off the edge and caused her to tip over.

"W-W-Whoa!" she exclaimed on her way down.

As she was flailing her hands and was about to fall, she quickly grabbed onto Red X outstretched arm, saving her from falling over. She looked up at Red X looking down on her and she could have sworn she heard him chuckle. He pulled his arm back along with batgirl, letting her onto the trailer again. Batgirl awkwardly stumbled forward and stopped in the middle of the trailer.

She turned and faced Red X who was annoyingly standing in such a way that indicated he was bored. This earned him a snarl from Batgirl who reached into her utility belt an threw three batarangs towards Red X. The thief countered by producing three corresponding x-bombs, and tossed them into the air.

The six projectiles impacted in mid-air and destroyed each other. The flash from the explosions blinded Batgirl for a moment as she used her cape as a shield. Batgirl faced Red x once again, still standing cockily. It was clear to Batgirl that she was outmatched. Red X was just making fun of her throughout this chase. But she wasn't gonna give up now.

"Had enough?" asked Batgirl.

Red X managed to suppress a chuckle. "Look, we both already know that you're not getting anywhere in a hurry. Call it a night and do yourself a big favor."

"No way, pal!"

"Fine. It's your funeral."

Red X raised an arm and launched his grappling cable up towards another building's rooftop. He reeled himself up, leaving Batgirl on the trailer bellow. Not to be outdone, the caped crime fighter followed suit and continued the chase.

As soon as Red X landed on the rooftop's gravel, he was immediately back on his feet and running across the roof. Batgirl was close by about a three second gap. They resumed running across rooftops and jumping from one building to the next.

Red X had amazing stamina and showed very little signs of fatigue. Years of hard training along with his late night excursions as the Red X, plus the added physical enhancements of the suit itself, allowed the thief for plenty of energy to waste. Also, unlike Batgirl, he was pacing himself. He knew where he was going and how, making sure not to waste energy.

Batgirl was understandably getting a little tired. Chasing someone involved a great deal of factors that caused her to loose he stamina a lot quicker. While she could leap and bend just as well as the crimson thief, she didn't have the build for long sprints. She also couldn't predict Red X's moves and can't afford to pace herself the way he could.

They went over four rooftops before Red X made another attempt to loose her. On the fifth rooftop, he noticed a tall wooden water tower. On his past it, he threw a series of x-bombs which attached to the outer legs of the tower. The exploded and completely incinerated the supporting structure which naturally caused the tower to tip over right in Batgirl's path.

Batgirl noticed it and nearly skidded to a halt. Having little options at her disposal, she made a quick decision to run to the side and disappeared behind a wall of water. Red X looked over his shoulder as he landed on the next rooftop and couldn't spot any sign of Batgirl. He wondered if he was finally able to loose her.

Then, without much surprise, Batgirl suddenly came swinging from the outside, parallel to Red X. Red X figured that she probably jumped off the side to avoid the water tower then swung back up on her grappling cable. The chase resumed as Batgirl landed back on the roof hot on Red X's trail.

The last rooftop the were on once again ended up on the corner of an intersection so the nearest building was again to far to jump to. Nevertheless Red X still leapt off the edge without any inhibitions whatsoever. In mid-air, he twisted his body to face the building, and Batgirl. He threw one last x-shuriken at her to slow her down.

Batgirl evaded it easily but it distracted her. She ran to the edge of the roof and peered over. Red X was stil facing the building side when he raised an arm towards the roof. He launched a grappling cable which attached to roof's edge, just under Batgirl's feet, which caught her a bit by surprise. Red X swung towards the building front and broke through one of the windows feet first.

Shattered glass rained in from the newly opened window as Red X landed inside a darkened office space. The floor was wide and filled with dozens of cubicles for employees to work in. Naturally, there were no lights on since, as far as he knew, he was the only one on the floor. He moved forward an hid in the shadows, waiting for his pursuer.

Like clockwork, Batgirl came swinging in about three or four seconds after Red X. She immediately stood up in a ready stance. Looking around, she was alarmed that she could no longer see Red X anywhere. She cautiously moved forward, keeping an eye out for threats.

On most occasions, Batgirl would welcome the dark and quiet locales. But that's only when she is the one in hiding. When, you know that someone is watching you and you have know idea where exactly that someone is, you be pretty uncomfortable in places like this. Still she was not deterred. Her pride wouldn't let her back down.

A few minutes of dead silence passed by as Batgirl slowly moved through rows of empty cubicles. The only light that was coming in was from the moonlight outside, which wasn't much to speak of. Batgirl thought she could hear something but soon found out that it was her own heartbeat.

"You really don't know when to quit do you?" Red X's voice, sounding a little bit humored, echoed in the empty space, prompting Batgirl to stand her ground.

"Come out and face me!" she ordered to no avail.

"Try to remember that you're in my town. You can't beat me on my own turf, girl."

"I ain't that easy to get rid of, dude. I want my answers."

"It should be clear to you by now that I have no alliances with Falcone. You don't have to go prosecuting me like this, 'ya know. I hate that guy as much as you do."

"I still wanna know why you're so hell-bent on him."

"That's none of your business."

"I'm making it my business. Answer me!"

A long moment of silence. Red X voice eventually returned although all humor or pleasantries in it were lost. "Sufficed to say he took something from me."

Batgirl raised an eyebrow. "…What?"

"One of the few things I considered precious; he took that away from me."

Batgirl couldn't find a response. For a brief moment, she actually felt what seemed like sympathy.

"Falcone will pay," continued Red X's icy voice. "And if you don't want to get hurt…"

A moment of silence. Batgirl strained to hear anything else coming from the darkness. Then, his voice came from directly behind her: "…you'll stay out of my way!"

Batgirl went wide-eyed and turned around as fast as she could. She tried to mount a defense with her stance but it was too late to do anything as Red X raised a hand with a small gray ball clamped between each finger. Red X tossed the balls onto the ground at Batgirl's feet and they all instantly exploded in a large cloud of smoke.

The smoke covered the immediate area, completely blinding Batgirl in a choking cloud. Eventually the smoke subsided and Batgirl emerged coughing her lungs out. Regaining her sight, and her respiratory functions, she glanced around and saw no sign of Red X. He was definitely gone for the night and she was alone.

She ought to be upset but there was something about the last thing Red X said to her that gabbed hold of her thoughts. Falcone took away something precious to him. He wanted Falcone to pay for that crime. She couldn't help but feel a little empathetic.

"Precious huh…?" she mumbled in the empty darkness.

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An hour or so later at the Clear Springs Hotel.

Barbara Gordon came out of the shower in a bathrobe, wiping her hair with a towel. Her Batgirl costume was strewn across the bed. She plopped down onto the bed while letting out a long exasperated sigh. After the events of the night. She was understandably very tired.

"Man…" she mumbled, "what a rough night. Finding him was hard enough. But he just had to make me chase him across town too."

She sat up and turned on the TV. The show was nothing she was interested in but she needed something to pass the time and relax. Something to distract her supposedly from her botched up escapade a while ago.

Eventually she started tinkering with the various gadgets from her utility belt. After a while, she started browsing her laptop computer. Then she tried changing the channel but still found nothing of interest. She tried playing a game of solitaire on her laptop, lost interest, and played a minesweeper game. She lost interest in that too and went back to solitaire.

She turned off her laptop after a while, and went back to the TV. Again, nothing interesting. She started tinkering with her gadgets again. Finally, after doing all that stuff for a full fifteen minutes, she gave out a frustrated grunt and decided to just turn everything off and lay down to rest.

While trying to drift off into sleep, her thoughts went back to the last thing Red X said. It was the one thing that was still fresh on her mind.

"He's only on a personal vendetta," she said to herself. "He just wants to take revenge on Falcone for something. He's just a selfish jerk, that's all."

She closed her eyes and tried to drift off. But she opened them only after a few second. She sat up slightly and looked at her Batgirl costume on the bed next to her. She remembered why she was here in Jump City. She remembered why she left the comforts of her home to travel here, chasing a single crime lord. Again, she also remembered what Red X said to her.

"Then again…" she said, "…who am I to judge him? If anything, he and I have the same reasons…"

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Somewhere else.

"Calm down! What the hell do you mean clam down? I can't calm down! No one in their right state of sanity would calm down in a situation like this when some nut in a red and black Halloween costume is going around town blowing up plants left and right. If you think I can calm down about that then you're one insane mothe--!"

The plant manager was slapped across the face by the heavy hand of Bruno, Adrian Falcone's personal assistant. He was there in that particular location (wherever it may be) as part of his regular inspections. He had just given a report on the current situation concerning a costumed thief that's been demolishing and decommissioning an assortment of Venus production plants across town.

Understandably, the manager of this production plant was a little hectic about the news. Still, Bruno did manage to calm him down, despite the fact that the manager might develop a bruise on his cheek from the hit.

"Listen, man…" said Bruno with heavy authority, "The situation is being taken care of. I'm already assigning you some extra muscle here."

"B-B-But that guy in the costume ain't normal. I don't know if a little more guards here and there could help."

"You forget that Mr. Falcone has his own extraordinary resources when dealing with situations like this."

The manager thought about this for a second. "Oh yeah… that guy with the dagger and never talks…"

"Yeah, him. Our contact in the JCPD has already sent him on the job. Hopefully, this whole mess will clear itself out in a few nights. In the meantime, Mr. Falcone wants a ten percent increase in production. Can you do that?"

"Uh… sure, I guess."

"Good. I'll be back on the usual schedule. Watch out for yourselves."

With That, Bruno left the office. He made his way through familiar hallways. People around him, immediately stepped out of his way either out of respect or intimidation. Something Bruno took great satisfaction in.

After all, when you're the number one person of one of the world's most powerful crime lords, you get a few fringe benefits. He loved the authority he had over his underlings. He loved the way they cower at his feet. These were things he never had in the past until Mr. Falcone came along. There was nothing in the world he would trade it for.

As far as the things he hated went, it was this masked thief that they call the Red X that was at the top of the list at the moment. Whoever he was, and whatever his motives may be, Bruno could not allow his activities to go on any further.

If this Red X was allowed to continue, then it'll only mean disaster for Falcone. And if Falcone falls, he falls with him. He would not allow that, not for anything. Bruno swore that if he ever got the chance to meet this Red X in person he will snap his body in so many places he could fit the corpse into a breadbox.

Eventually, Bruno arrived outside of whatever building he was in. Out on the street, a nice looking black Alfa Romeo was parked. Bruno entered the car, started it, and was on his way to his next destination, wherever that might be.

Unseen by anyone, Red X stood perched on a fire escape of a nearby building. He watched, with cold masked eyes as the Alfa Romeo sped away.

"Hello, hello… Mr. Bruno…" he mumbled under his breath.

Little did Bruno know, he was about to meet Red X sooner than he expected.

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Author's note: Ah, the plot thickens…! More action to come in the later chapters as Red X begins to find out the hard truths in this dark little tale. As usual, Pls. R&R . Thank you for all your reviews and please pardon the grammatical errors here and there.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: No, I still don't own a darn thing.

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The Skyline Tower Apartments.

Tomoyo was at her computer inside her bedroom, typing away at a word processor. She's been like this for up to three hours now, just typing. What was she typing exactly? Her latest book on the fundamentals of martial arts across the world.

By then, half the book was already finished. Occasionally she would look back at the things she's written and try and judge herself without being too biased to herself. So far so good, she thought to herself. But she wouldn't really know until the thing actually got published. Something she was looking forward to.

She finished up her typing for the day. A few last sentences then she saved it into a special hidden folder, and finally put the computer to sleep. Something she thought she should be doing herself. She stood up from her chair and made her way to her closet to change.

After she changed into her nightgown, she automatically went to bed. On her way, she briefly caught a glimpse of her cellphone. It still had the same background wall paper on its screen: a picture of the three of them on that one vacation. She focused on the image of her son mostly. Her thoughts then moved to the current situation.

Looking back, Nick had acted a bit suspiciously over the last few days. He went out a lot recently, and Tomoyo was sure it wasn't just about that girl, Tara, he's his been seeing lately. Wile she was a bit concerned, ultimately she didn't fret much. She has learned since his more younger days that Nick was trustworthy.

She considered it something of a talent of his. Nick grew up in an environment where he learned from an early age how to manage himself when taking risk. It was his father's legacy in him. Nick was trained as soon as he learned to crawl the basics on how to get what he wants. Tomoyo recalled those early days.

When nick was just a toddler, barely able to speak, his father started training him in a sense. Nick had a favorite toy car back in those days and that was what his father used to establish a goal. Whenever Nick reached out to the toy car, indicating he wanted it, his father would pick it up and put it down a good distance away. Nick would cry at first but soon realize that if he wanted it, he had to get. He would crawl to the toy car instead of waiting for his father to give it to him.

As time passed, the training got a bit harder. His father started placing the toy car on high places like on top of a chair. Nick had to try harder or become a little more creative. Often he would stumble a bit and hurt himself slightly, but he never cried again. No matter what the challenge, he always got that darn car. Even though Nick soon outgrew the toy car, the proud expressions he saw on his father's face was more than enough of a reward.

This was how Nick became the way he was. From his earliest childhood, Nick learned what it took to reach certain goals; taking risks, creativity, and a rock hard determination. Ever since then, there was almost nothing out of Nick's reach. It made him excel in just about everything significant to him. Marvin, when he was alive, was proud at that. And so was Tomoyo. She knew enough to trust her son and not worry about him. He could take care of himself just fine.

She tucked herself in for the night, feeling secured.

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Somewhere else that night.

What really completes a city is its own personal landmark. For this city, it was the Jump City Suspension Bridge. A testament to the power of human engineering, the bridge stands to signify what the city was all about: people getting the job done to make life easier. In the day it's bustling with traffic but at night it's a tad quieter.

But all the glamour of the bridge can only be usually found on top. Down below, in the banks of the water, where the bridge meets land, a small population of less fortunate homeless people was keeping warm for the night among an assortment of rubbish.

Some of the homeless where huddled together right next to the brick wall which consisted the bridges base, sleeping under ragged old blankets. Some were playing a game using old soda bottle caps. Some were simply standing around a single drum barrel, old and rusty, containing a hot burning fire, fueled by more assorted trash inside the drum.

As for the myriad of junk around them, there was a pile of old chairs, a stack of rotting wooden crates, an old TV with it's screen cracked, a very old stereo, a disused cabinet with one of its doors missing, an old dresser with all its drawers missing, an old computer monitor also with a cracked screen, a refrigerator, a file cabinet, some glass bottles here and there, half a dining table, and, interestingly enough, a large plaster model of a T-Rex that looked like it was used in movie set or some kind of carnival ride.

The night passed on without anything happening. One would almost think it would be a quiet night. But then again, this was Jump City. And this city has a bit of a reputation when it came to quiet nights…

"Aaaaargggghhh!"

The scream was followed by the distinct sound of something crashing into something else. Anyone who was asleep woke up and all the people under the bridge looked in the general direction of the noise. They were caught-off guard by a computer monitor that was flying directly at them.

Those in the path of the airborne monitor scrambled out of its way and the monitor ended up crashing right into the flaming barrel. The barrel violently burst open where rust was concentrated and spilled burning debris as it tipped over.

Everyone heard another loud crashing sound and turned in that direction. A pile of wooden crates just collapsed forcedly and kicked up a large cloud of dust and moss. As the dust cleared the figure of Red X could be seen, breathing heavily and loudly. Everyone looked at him with a fearful glance.

Red X slowly turned towards the people and gave them a very, very menacing glare. People started to slowly back away. For a while Red X didn't move or speak. His shoulders were clearly heaving up and down from heavy breathing and everyone could hear it in the silence of the night.

"What the hell are you looking at?" he suddenly exclaimed with a raging voice to the crowd.

Everyone was now scrambling away from the costumed thief and out of the general area. A few people grabbed what little valuables they had as they left and none of them dared to look bock. Red x didn't bother pursuing them. He was left standing alone.

"Aaaarrrgghhhh!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

He backhanded the pile of chairs which caused the pile to violently collapse to the ground around him. He then picked up a chair and tossed it straight to the ground, breaking apart into splinters. He then grabbed another chair and tossed it behind him without looking even after he heard it crash into something.

He quickly moved and grabbed the old stereo. He angrily tossed it against the brick wall of the bridges base causing it to explode in a flurry of twisted plastic and circuitry. He started moving again, this time to the unused cabinet. He threw a punch at its one remaining door and broke it a new hole.

Red x violently yanked his hand away which accidentally ripped the door right off its hinges. Red X grabbed the door and tossed it like a discus to the brick wall where it shattered into splinters. He then grabbed the rest of the cabinet and tipped it over. It broke apart as it hit the ground. Red X stepped away and turned to see the large T-Rex plaster model. From where he stood, it looked like it was laughing at him with its sharp, jagged teeth.

"Daaaaaahhhh!" he yelled angrily.

It was enough to drive the crimson thief up the wall. He grabbed the broken TV set and threw it at the giant plaster animal. The impact was enough to break apart the plaster animal and cause it to collapse in a discernable pile of broken plaster and dust.

"Aaarrgghh!" he continued to yell out, "That bastard!"

He moved up next to the fallen barrel that he accidentally hit with the computer monitor earlier and violently kicked right off the floor and, again, towards the brick wall. The barrel was so old and rusty that it exploded into dozens of pieces of burning aluminum as it impacted the brick wall.

"That bastard!" he continued, "That bastard! That goddamn, son-of-a-whore, bastard!"

He turned around and moved to the old dresser. With one swipe of his newly bladed hand, he completely disintegrated the old piece of dilapidated furniture. Pieces of old and rotting wood flew everywhere. Some caught fire from the spilled debris that was still burning. It gave the air an ominous glow of amber.

Those who knew what kind of a person Red X was like would be more than a little curious at the current behavior he was displaying. Ordinarily, Red X was the thief known for his coolness and calculation on the battle field, never the one to fall under the pressure. Above all, Red x was completely unemotional.

This was not that same thief, While the person under the mask remained the same, the mindset that made Red x a feared creature of the dark was gone at that moment. All that was left as it seemed was a raging beast that was now conquered by anger and hate. How did he end up like this?

To understand that, one must first look back at previous events that night.

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Earlier that night.

A familiar Alfa Romeo pulled up to lavish looking hotel in the northern district of Jump City. It pulled up to the main entrance and stopped in front of the door as usual. A valet opened the door for the driver and out cam Bruno in all the glory of his relatively cheap suit.

Bruno tipped the valet and walked into the hotel as his car was parked for him. He walked passed the front doors into the rather lavish lobby which he was used to by now having come in and out many times on errands for Mr. Falcone. Though he liked it, he wasn't going to miss it. This was probably thelast night he'd see the place.

Why? Falcone has moved, that's why. The penthouse suite they were using was just a temporary base of operations. About a week ago, arrangements for the new and permanent base of operations was already made and the move was made way earlier in the day. All Bruno had to do was finish up some stuff here and he'd move away himself.

Bruno was here to pick up some stuff and to settle the hotel bill. He walked up to the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse suite. He had to use a special key in the elevator to access the suite. The ride took all of five minutes. Bruno was mildly annoyed at the elevator music which was a lousy rendition of the classic Beatles song "Good Day Sunshine."

When the door opened he breath a sigh of relief as the song finally ended. After taking two steps, his relief suddenly turned to utter shock. He found himself looking at the image of the crimson thief, Red X, standing in the middle of the lavish, and otherwise empty, penthouse suite. Bruno was frozen where he stood.

"Nice crib you got here," said Red X in a cold voice.

Bruno reacted with slight hesitation, drawing the pistol hidden in his suit. As soon as he put it out, he suddenly found it flying off of his hand and onto the floor. He stared at it dumbfounded and found a red x-shuriken sticking out of the side, rendering it inoperable. He looked up again and couldn't react in time to avert the fist flying towards his face.

Bruno fell against the doors of the elevator he just exited from. Red x was walking towards him menacingly. He growled under his breath. He did not become the number one officer of the biggest drug lord of the west coast to be beat up by some freak in a creepy Halloween costume.

Bruno got back up surprisingly quickly. Red X didn't seem to expect something like this. Bruno threw a quick jab at Red X but the thief was quick enough to block the jab before it impacted his face. Red x managed to grab the fist in mid-air and redirect it to the side. Red X then side-stepped to distance himself away from Bruno, who just proved himself a little more dangerous than initially thought.

Red X took a ready stance while Bruno did the same. Bruno, proving to be the more aggressive of the two, charged in, fist high in the air. Red X was more nimble and easily dodged the jab that came down on him. Red X quickly countered with a knee to the stomach which forced Bruno to stumble back slightly, though he didn't look that hurt.

Red X was the one to charge now, sending a powerful kick towards Bruno's chest. The impact didn't bother the large thug that much and this caught Red X off-guard. Bruno then grabbed onto Red X's leg and tossed him like a wet rag across the room. Red X agonizingly crashed into a nearby desk breaking it into splinters.

Bruno grunted and moved towards a dining set of furniture. He picked up a chair like it weighed nothing and held it high over his head. Red X was just recovering and saw Bruno's action then immediately had little doubt what the thug was about to do. Predictably enough, Bruno tossed the piece of furniture towards Red X's fallen person. The thief rolled quickly to the side avoiding the chair as it broke apart on the floor.

Red X got up as quick as he can and immediately stretched out his hand to shoot an x-taser. Bruno saw thin sparking projectile come at him and reacted accordingly by picking up the dining table and held it out as a shield. The x-taser impacted the table and fizzled out harmlessly.

Finding new use for the table, Bruno charged with it towards his perceived direction of Red X. The thief readied to evade and once he thought it was the right time, Red X gracefully leapt up and over the charging table. Bruno, who was unable to see the thief evade him, kept on charging and ended up crashing into a liquor cabinet.

The glass doors of the cabinet busted open and bottles of gin and rum began toppling to the floor. Bruno angrily dropped the table onto the floor on its side then turned around to face the crimson thief. Red X was already running his way and, upon reaching a close enough distance, threw a hook right at Bruno's face.

The fist made impact but Bruno's face hardly move nor did he show any sign of feeling the punch. Red x reeled back his other hand and went for his stomach. Bruno bent slightly over from the hit, but still didn't show that much discomfort. In a last attempt, Red X head butted the man. Bruno reeled his head back but soon came back with a much powerful head butt which forced Red X to stumble back and be momentarily stunned.

Bruno took this chance to deliver a vicious upper-cut which nailed Red X right in the stomach and sent him flying across the room. He collided with the wall on his back and fell back to the floor face first. With his enemy momentarily out of it, Bruno turned back towards the table and broke off one of its legs. He then held that leg like a bat, slapping it against his palm repeatedly.

Red x was just recovering at that point but Bruno was already approaching him menacingly, makeshift bat at hand. Red X was able to recover in time to look up and see Bruno about to drop him with the wooden table leg. Red X rolled to the side and Bruno's wooden weapon hit nothing but floor. Red x turned slightly and kicked the weapon right out of Bruno's hands.

Red X then leapt to his feet but backed away from Bruno, now realizing just how big a threat he really is. Bruno was grunting loudly and bearing his teeth on the thief, who looked scrawny compared to himself. Red x continued to back away as they reached the center of the room. The thief was weighing his options carefully.

"How the hell did you find this place?" asked Bruno.

"Well," Red X replied nonchalantly, "you squeeze enough people, one of them is bound to know something. It took me quite a while find someone with that kind of information. Had to blow up a lot of stuff to do it too."

"So, you really were the one doing all that. You'll pay for it. I don't know what you got against Mr. Falcone, but you'll pay for what you've done."

"Not before he pays for what he's done first."

"What are you? Some kind of hero wannabe?"

Red X's voice turned a bit colder. "I'm no hero…"

"You're not getting any clearer, buddy."

"Why should I be any clearer? Everything I do is straightforward. No need to get any clearer than that. I'm just here to do what I'm here to do."

"Whose side are you on?"

"Mine."

"Then why all the theatrics then? If it's money you want, you can work for Mr. Falcone. We call always find a job for a guy like you."

"I don't want anything to do with that bastard. He took enough away from me as it is. He'll be the one paying at the end of all this. I'll make sure of it."

Bruno was a bit puzzled by this statement for a while before he finally understood the underlying content and a sinister smile spread across his face. "Oh… I see now… well, buddy, you have to understand this is business. I'm sorry for your… loss but we do what we have to do to ensure our competitiveness. You understand this right?"

Red X's demeanor suddenly turned a whole lot colder. "The only thing that I understand is that you took something away from me. And the only thin _you_ need to understand is that I don't give a rat's ass what you have to do to maintain this shit-load of a drug empire you have. I am the Red X; I live for myself and myself alone. You made a mistake when you messed with me and as such I will take actions which I deem is fair. All of you, and especially Falcone, will face trials in my hands. Trials in crimson!"

Red x suddenly charged at Bruno. Bruno held his fists ready but was caught off-guard when Red suddenly disappeared all of a sudden. Bruno didn't realize that Red X had materialized behind him so Bruno wasn't able to evade the backhand that clobbered the back of his head.

The hit was hard enough that Bruno actually fell on his knees and hands. Red X quickly followed up with a drop kick to the back. Bruno was floored and had the wind knocked-out of him. Red X then moved to his side and kicked the fallen Bruno up into the air through the added strength of his suit. Bruno flew then slid across the room and ended up crashing right through the glass doors which lead out onto the balcony. He also tipped over the outdoor furniture on his way, toppling over some chairs and breaking a glass table top.

Bruno got up and reached into his suit and retrieved a switch blade. He held it ready for Red X when he would approach but never really got the chance to use it since he suddenly felt his entire arm go numb. He found the reason for it as an x-shuriken was suddenly embedded in his shoulder blade. He yanked out the x-shuriken with his other hand.

When he was about to pick up his switchblade, Red X was already upon him and he couldn't react in time as the crimson thief leapt up into the air and delivered a powerful kick to Bruno's face, effectively breaking his nose. Bruno flew backwards and accidentally broke through the balcony railing that was overlooking the city.

He would have fallen to his death his legs not been lassoed by Red X with a grappling cable just before they went over with the rest of his body. Bruno was now helplessly dangling upside-down over a forty story drop to the street bellow. He did his best not to pee his pants and he was failing miserably.

"Who arranges the murders?" asked Red X coldly.

"What?" replied Bruno.

"How does Falcone kill the people he thinks are in his way? Tell me!"

"I-I-I don't know!"

Red X let some more grappling cable slip from his gauntlet causing Bruno to drop another few inches causing the hanging thug to yelp nervously.

"I won't ask again," exclaimed Red X, "Who arranges the murders in this business? Who picks the targets? Answer me or I'll drop you!"

"Benedict!"

"What?"

"Benedict! Detective Robert Benedict of the JCPD!"

It was then that something inside Red X crumbled into a million indiscernible pieces. He felt the world being pulled from under him as he tried to process the information in his head. He couldn't breath and he couldn't speak. He couldn't even blink for a while as Bruno kept talking and Red x had no choice but to keep listening.

"He's the one who arranges all the hits for Falcone. Been working with us for years now. He makes sure that no-one gets too close to Falcone, especially the cops. He takes out anyone who does. He's been with us everywhere we take our operation at, like Gotham and Opal. It's his job."

Red X was breathing heavily. His eyes were getting narrower. Softly at first but growing louder by the second, he growled in anger.

"aaaaaaarrrrrgghhHHH!"

Red X violently pulled on the grappling rope that held Bruno and yanked him back onto the balcony. Bruno didn't know whether he should be relieved or terrified. He felt the grappling cable loosen and his feet get free. He looked up to see Red X who was absolutely fuming even from behind. Bruno started crawling backwards. For a long while Red X said nothing and didn't face Bruno.

When Red X did look at him, Bruno felt his blood freeze in his veins. Red X menacingly stepped towards him and stood over him like a hunter would a fallen prey. When the thief spoke, his voice was the coldest it could get.

"Get out," he said. "If I ever see your face in this town again, I'll rip it off and feed it back to you. Understand?"

Bruno nervously nodded, got up and ran for the elevator. That was the last anybody saw of him in Jump City.

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Back at the present, under the bridge.

More stuff met the brick wall as what looked like another broken TV smashed into it and exploded into smithereens. Red had yet to slow his breathing which didn't look like it would happen anytime soon that night. His shoulders were still heaving with every breath.

"Benedict!" he exclaimed.

He brought a hand down on an old dresser. The impact split the dresser right down the middle as its rotten wood and missing drawers made it weak. Red X then stomped towards stack of aluminum drum barrels. He kicked the bottom dumb off and the rest tumbled down naturally. A whole bunch of drum barrels littred the floor.

"Benedict!" he exclaimed again. "He was your friend!"

He kicked a fallen barrel into the air. It crashed down onto another pile of debris a good distance away.

"He trusted you!" he exclaimed as he kicked another barrel up into the air which crashed right on top of what remained of an old wrecked car. "_I_ trusted you!"

He grabbed the last barrel and threw it into the air with a grunt. It flew farther than any of the other stuff and splashed right into the bay waters. It was only then that he started to calm down.

His breathing finally slowed and his shoulders stopped heaving with it. He let his arms drop and relax. His stance got weaker, his legs no longer that rigid. Still he stood straight, out of a sense pride if nothing else. He stood there for a long time silent, his caped draped over his body. All was quiet once again.

"Bob…" he said in the softest voice, "…I swear… I'll have your head…"

A second later, Red X vanished.

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Somewhere else along the city's landscape.

Batgirl was again patrolling the rooftops for signs of the rather conspicuous character that is the Red X. So far, nothing. But if this was important then one couldn't really expect it to be easy. Still, she wouldn't mind a break once and a while. In this line of business, breaks are hard to come by. Needless to say, she was getting awfully frustrated by all this.

While swinging away on her fruitless search, she noticed something odd. She was surveying the rooftops when a particular penthouse suit caught her eye. She noticed that the furniture on the balcony was a mess, the door leading out onto the balcony was broken with glass everywhere, and part of the railing was broken. Heroic instincts took over and she redirected herself in the middle of her swing.

She landed gracefully amongst the mess on the balcony. Looking up, she noticed that there was quite a mess inside the suite itself. There was shattered furniture everywhere. A table was on its side, there were some chairs tipped over, broken bottles and spilled drinks stained the carpeted floor, an x-shaped thing on the ground…

Batgirls went wide-eyed. She immediately rushed over to the thing and kneeled down to look at it. There was no doubt in her mind what that meant.

"Looks like he had quite a party here," she said. "But with who?"

She pocketed away the small projectile in her utility belt and had a look around. She rummaged through drawers and under the bed. She searched in the closet and in the cabinets and, thankfully, she actually found something: a laptop computer that didn't look like it belonged to the hotel. Thing were finally looking up that night.

She set it down and turned it on. There was a password required. She shrugged. Nothing too difficult to break. Within minutes she hacked into the computer's files easily. She began browsing and started finding out a few things. Through only a few files she already knew that this laptop belonged to Falcone who was also most likely renting this suite.

But where was Falcone now? The million dollar question she didn't have the answer to at that moment.

She continued to browse more. She found a calendar program which seemed to contain a schedule. Through there she found out that Falcone had moved out of this suite and into another location. The calendar program didn't say which location particularly, but Batgirl was confident she would find it here somewhere.

She also found out that the only person who was supposed to be here tonight was Falcone's personal assistant, Bruno. Surely there was no-one here now except herself so Batgirl wondered where he was and what exactly happened here. She was quite sure Red X was involved somehow.

She continued browsing for the heck of it. She looked back onto perevious dates not really looking for anything in particular, just something in general. But she was already confident that she got all the information she wanted for tonght. But then she saw something.

"Wait…" she mumbled as she looked at the screen. "… This is…"

There was particular entry that caught her eye. An entry that indicated a meeting someone with a name. A name she recognized. She held her breath for a moment. Batgirl, in her accumulated experience, should've been used to surprises like this. But this one caught her truly off-guard.

To confirm he suspicions, she continued browsing the computer for files. An e-mail program was really helpful when she found it. There were many files and she browsed through them quickly. She found one that confirmed her suspicions. It scared her somewhat.

_Sender: "Bob"_

_RE: Loose ends._

_Patrolman in uptown taken care of. All evidence pointing to operations have been purged. Don't worry about Davenport. We'll take care of him soon enough. Also, new location for new base of operations has been secured. _

It was all she needed to confirm her suspicions. Her eyes narrowed and her teeth gritted. It was a dirty cop responsible for all those deaths. A dirty cop, the lowest of the low, in her opinion. Being who she was, the one thing Batgirl hated the most in this world was a dirty cop.

She heard a ding that indicated that the elevator was heading her way. She figured it must be some authorities coming to investigate. She closed the laptop and made her way out the way she came in. She leapt off the balcony with laptop at one hand and a grappling hook on the other.

No-one ever knew she was there.

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Author's note: Things are getting messy now, huh?. As usual, pls. R&R. tune in next time where there will be more action and even more lousy grammar!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Chances are they still ain't mine.

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At the Davenport's place.

The telephone began to ring. Tomoyo was just getting out of the shower in her bathrobe at the time. She was wiping her meticulously with a towel as well when she answered the call, being in a hurry for some reason; she only pressed the speaker phone and continued to dry her hair.

"Hello?" said a familiar voice on the other line, "Nick?"

"Sorry," replied Tomoyo, "His not here at the moment."

"Oh, Mrs. Davenport, it's you."

"It's Tara, right."

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry if I called at a bad time."

"Nonsense. If anything I was about to call you to see if you knew where Nick was. But you don't know where he is, don't you?"

"Sorry, no…"

"I was also gonna ask a favor too."

"What favor?"

"Well, I'm leaving town for a few days to go to a convention. Nick already knows about this but I'm leaving a little earlier than I anticipated. I'm leaving in a few minutes and it looks like Nick will miss me so I'll just leave him a note. Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you could… keep him company…"

"Wh-what?"

"Well, I don't want Nick to get lonely."

Tara stammered. "Wha… umm… I uh…"

"You can stay over if you want."

Tara stammered some more. "Uh… well, um… uhh…. Sure?"

"Thanks. I'm sure you kids will have lots of fun together."

There was a sound of something slipping and falling over on Tara's side. "Wha—What do you mean, Mrs. Davenpo--?"

"Nick just bought this great new game for his computer. I'm sure he'll let you play to if you ask…"

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Somewhere near the coast.

A Range Rover pulled up to a nice little apartment building in a nicer part of town. It parked in its usual spot in the parking lot amongst several other cars and its engine hummed to a stop. The driver side door opened and out of it exited Detective Robert Benedict, Bob to most people, smoking an almost used up cigarette. He took the short stick from his mouth, dropped on the ground and crushed it with his foot.

He reached into his pocket and grabbed a pack of the nicotine loaded sticks and lit himself a new one. He casually walked towards the apartment building, eyeing the night sky for but a brief moment. He walked passed the door and into the elevator just like he always did for the past few months since he moved here.

He wondered how long a stay he had left. Knowing Falcone, chances are he might have to move again by Christmas season. That didn't bother him just as long as he's getting paid. He couldn't care less where he'd end up next. He was too important to Falcone, he knew that. He took great security in it than nothing bad can ever happen to him.

He exited onto the ninth floor where his apartment was. A few steps from the elevator were all it took before he was standing in front of his door. He took out a key from his pockets, inserted in into the keyhole and opened the door. Strange, he thought, the keyhole felt a little… looser than usual. He shrugged it off and entered the room.

It was a quaint little place, one living room, one bedroom, and the ever essential bathroom. The entire place smell of cigarette smoke but Bob himself hardly noticed it anymore. He walked to the couch he had in the middle of the living room, picked up a remote and turned on the TV then dropped the remote back onto the couch in front of the TV.

The TV turned on to professional wrestling show. Some guy in a mask was about to be pile driven by some big sumo-looking guy. Bob all but ignored the program and gave out a long yawn then moved to the fridge. He naturally took out a beer. He barely noticed that he was missing a few drinks. After chugging the whole can in one gulp, he did look down and notice.

He used to have thee bottles of water in the fridge. Now, there were only two left. He looked around a bit and saw the third bottle, on the floor, crushed and crumpled. He stared at the crumpled bottle for a while before realization hit him like truck full of bricks. His eyes went wide and he dropped his can of beer.

In a flash, he drew out his service pistol, the standard berretta M9. He swiveled it all over the apartment looking for something to aim at. Nothing moved except the images on the TV. The only sounds in the room were also coming solely from the TV and Bob decided it was only distracting him. Slowly, gun held ready for anything, he inched his way towards the TV set.

On his way there, he swiveled his gun across the many would-be hiding places in the room. He tried to see anything moving but found nothing he could notice. The full can of beer he just drank didn't do much help either and only served to slow his senses. Eventually he reached the TV. Without looking, Bob cautiously reached out a hand towards the power switch. Before his hand could reach it, another hand already turned the TV off and the room went quiet.

Bob went wide-eyed and turned his head to wear his outstretched hand was. He wasn't able to see much of anything since as soon as he turned his head a black booted foot smacked him right across the jaw. Bob crashed into the couch in front of the TV and flipped over it as the couch itself toppled over. Bob lost his gun in the process and dropped it on the floor somewhere.

He looked up from where he was face down on the floor and saw his pistol just a few feet in front of him. He reached out for it and managed to lay a hand on it. But as soon as he did, an x-shuriken suddenly impaled itself onto the floor right through the gun's trigger guard. This effectively nailed the gun to the floor and Bob was unable to pick it up.

Bob suddenly felt someone grab the back of his coat. He was suddenly yanked up from the ground and hurled across the room like a rag doll. He went flying towards his kitchen area. He crashed on the counter top then rolled over falling to the floor. He got up as quick as he could. As soon as Bob was on his feet, He reached up to the top of the fridge and pulled out a hidden weapon: a small .22 snub revolver.

He aimed the small gun to where he thought his attacker was but as soon as he turned something sharp impacted his revolver which caused the weapon to practically disintegrate into all its separate pieces. Bob clutched his hand in pain though there was no wound and only the shock hurt. He looked up and got the first good look at his attacker. Standing there with an outstretched arm was the crimson thief of the night himself.

"The Red X?" exclaimed Bob.

"Right the first time," replied the thief.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm the repo-man, here to collect your overdue ass, Benedict."

"I've got nothing against you, man. Just leave me alone!"

"Not gonna happen, buddy."

Red X moved towards Bob, slowly and menacingly. Bob grabbed the first thing he could (a large frying pan) and threw it towards the approaching costumed thief. Red X Expertly knocked the piece of flying cookware to the side. Bob, growing a little more desperate, began throwing a whole bunch of assorted cookery in Red X's direction.

Red X was actually forced to back away a bit since some of the stuff Bob's been throwing at him was actually quite a threat like his complete set of kitchen knives for example. Red X settled on covering his entire person with his cape which was fairly able to hold out the barrage of airborne cookware. Pretty soon Bob ran out of stuff. Bob had apparently thrown everything at him except the… well, you know.

Red X dropped his caped and swung back to his backside so that he could see better. Bob was already charging at him like a rampaging bull which totally caught Red x by surprise. Bob tackled the thief to the floor and both of them let out a painful yelp. Bob raised a fist which he threw down at Red X face. Red X saw it coming, however, and twisted his head slightly to the side and Bob's fist met the hardwood floor instead.

"Yaaargh!"

As Bob was holding his fist in pain, Red X took this moment of vulnerability on Bob's part to throw his own punch up Bob's chin. Bob went flying off of Red X and landed on the flat of his Back. Red X kicked his feet up and propelled himself up back into a standing position. By then, Bob was already back up on his feet, rubbing his chin. He reached into his coat and pulled out a switchblade.

Bob gave a few thrusts towards Red X and generally missed the thief, not even coming close to cutting his costume. At one point, when Bob's arm was stretched out from a thrust, Red X grabbed onto his arm, right at the wrist, and twisted it forcing a yelp out of Bob and causing him to drop his switchblade.

Red X then used the leverage he had on Bob through his arm and tossed the detective over his shoulder and back onto the floor. On his way down, Bob accidentally hit the remote control that was on the floor. The TV spontaneously turned on and began blaring out the sounds of a million screaming fans as the wrestling program was resumed. Bob got up and faced Red X, albeit with a little difficulty on his back, and started slowly backing away.

"What do you want with me?" exclaimed Bob, "I don't have anything for you to steal! I don't have anything valuable! What's your business got to do with mine?"

"It's not that simple," replied Red X.

"Then what is it that you're after me for? For that matter, why are you after Falcone?"

"So, you've been doing some homework huh?"

Bob, backed-up a bit and his foot hit something. He looked down and saw a frying pan on the floor. Probably something he threw awhile ago. He picked it up and held it at ready. "No matter what you think you've accomplish, you'll still end up at the bottom of the river, like the rest of the people crazy enough to mess with us."

Red X was hardly affected by the offensive gesture. "That's what they all say."

"Still, why are you doing this? What is this worth to you?"

Red X hesitated in answering for but a moment. "Let me explain something to you, buddy. In the world of thieves there is one essential rule: an eye for an eye… True you may have nothing of value for me to want but that's not the point here. You people stole something from me first. And now I'm here to collect what you owe me… in blood if need be."

Red X raised a hand and unleashed an x-blade. Bob backed up nervously and could only think of doing one thing: he threw the frying pan he had in his hand towards his natural target of Red X. Red X simply slapped the pan back at Bob's direction.

Bob Ducked in time to avoid the pan and it ended up impacting the TV set instead. The pan broke through the picture tube and the whole thing exploded in a flurry of bright sparks and flashes of light. Red X, who was in direct line of sight with the TV, was blinded and stumbled back. Bob, who had his back to the set hence avoiding being blinded, took that moment of opportunity and fled.

Bob ran for his front door whilst Red X tried to recover his sight. On his way to the door, Bob stopped by a drawer. He opened it and pulled out another .22 revolver, same as the one he had on top of the fridge. By then, Red X had already regained his sight and shook the afterimage from his eyes. He looked up in time to see Bob aiming the revolver at him.

Thinking quickly, Red X dove right through the bathroom door just as Bob shoot two bullets his way. Red X disappeared before Bob got a good aim. Bob, deciding that this location was disadvantageous to him, fled from the apartment. Red X peeked out from the bathroom and saw that Bob was gone. He gave immediate chase.

Bob was already in front of the elevator by the time Red x was out the door. Bob turned around to see the thief come out of his apartment and immediately stared firing his last remaining bullets at Red X. The thief quickly ducked back into the apartment to avoid the gunfire.

Two bullets hit the wall while the last one was lucky enough to blast the cap off of a fire extinguisher in the middle of the hallway. A suffocating white cloud covered the general are in front of Bob's apartment forcing Red X to back up into the apartment even more. The cloud eventually cleared and Red X stormed out.

Bob was no longer there in front of the elevator doors and all that was left there was a discarded .22 revolver on the floor. Red X turned back towards the apartment. In the meantime, Bob had reached the first floor and went straight to the front door.

Bob stormed out of the front entrance of his apartment building, eager as ever to get way from that place. He reached his Range Rover out on the parking lot quickly enough. He got in, started the SUV, and drove off in record time. As he was exiting the parking lot, he nearly hit an oncoming car which naturally swerved and honked in protest.

At about the same time, a body jumped out of what would be Bob's apartment window. The Body was later revealed to be Red X as he fell with almost poetic grace and landed perfectly on the asphalt bellow. He got up in time to watch the Range Rover speed off.

Under the mask, Nick gritted his teeth.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Moments later.

Bob was speeding like a madman through the partially deserted streets. It was already a few hours past sunset so the streets were fairly free of traffic. Good thing too. With the way Bob was driving, a fully loaded street would turn into a disaster in mere seconds.

His Range Rover was doing pretty impressive speeds for an SUV. He swerved all over the road, narrowly avoiding the few cars that were on the road at that time. While making a very sharp turn, his SUV drifts slightly and clipped a lamppost which bent over from the impact.

His eyes kept darting back and forth to his rearview mirrors, trying to spot anyone that was following him. At one point he did think it would be unlikely that Red X would be tailing his SUV on street level. He decided to go with something else. He reached into his pockets and was momentarily distracted.

A loud Honk prompted Bob to look back onto the road and he realized he was on the oncoming traffic side of the road and a small Beetle was headed his way. Bob swerved out of the Beetle's path and the small car swerved as well and crashed right into a fire hydrant. The Range Rover continued its rampage down the right side of the street.

Bob eventually found the thing he was looking for in his pockets which was his cell phone. He alternated between looking at the road and browsing through the listed names on his phone. Eventually he highlighted one particular name: Silencer. He grinned as he was about to press the call button when…

_**THUD!**_

Red X landed right on top of the Range Rover's hood. This sudden appearance caused Bob to yelp in surprise and drop his cell phone. He also lost control of the wheel for a second which caused the Range Rover to slightly swerve across the lanes. Amazingly, Red x managed to stay on due to the fact that he actually had an x-blade embedded onto the hood through his one hand.

Red X unleashed another x-blade in the other hand and prepared to smash the windshield. Bob was ready however, as he quickly reached into his glove box with one hand and retrieved a 12 gauge, double barreled, sawed-off shotgun. Red X went wide eyed as Bob raised it to the level of the windshield and aimed right at him.

In the last second Red X twisted his body to the side as Bob pulled the trigger and the windshield exploded outward. Bob missed Red X by about a few centimeters. The blast managed to blind Bob slightly and caused his ears to ring. Red X was trying to steady himself on top of the hood.

He regained his sight with some annoyance and re-aimed to the side. Red X wasn't planning on being shot so he quickly hopped upwards and landed on the SUV's roof. The thief was able to see Bob through the sunroof. Bob re-aimed upward through the sunroof. He fired just as Red X ducked back, avoiding the shot. Glass flew high into the air, narrowly missing the crimson thief.

Bob cursed out loud as he ejected the two empty shells from the shotgun. Red X peered into the SUV and saw Bob in the process of reloading. Red X reached into his utility belt and took out some smoke pellets which he threw right into the SUV. Within seconds, smoke was filling up the interior of the Range Rover, impairing Bob's sight.

The Range Rover swerved all over the road, nearly hitting traffic. Bob was inside trying to fight the effects of the smoke on his lungs while Red X was fighting to hang onto the roof of the Range Rover so he doesn't fly off and turn into roadkill.

Red X looked up and saw that they were headed straight towards a building under construction. The unfinished building rose up to the fortieth floor and, according to the banner on the perimeter fence, was the future site of the Feliciano Tower Office Complex. Though the grand opening wasn't for another ten months or so, Red X could see that he and Bob were going in anyway. Red X braced himself for impact.

The Range Rover broke right through the wooden perimeter fencing and into the construction yard. The SUV handled the rough terrain well enough but its potential was cut short when the SUV crashed into a pile of pre-made cement blocks, each the size of couch chair. The abrupt stop caused Red X to be catapulted forward into a hill of cement mix, kicking up a huge dust cloud.

A few moments of silence passed. The SUV hummed to a dead quiet as the engine gave out.

Bob burst out of the driver side door, coughing his lungs out. His head was bleeding from when he slammed it onto the steering wheel during the crash. That'll teach him to wear his seatbelt. He after regaining his breathing, he reached back into the SUV and grabbed his sawed-off shotgun. He also reached into the glove box again a grabbed a bunch of spare 12 gauge shells then stuffed then into his coat pockets.

He also reached for his cell phone to try and phone a friend over. That option was gone when it looked like his phone was broken from the drop and was completely unusable. The lesser options he had, the more Bob felt uneasy.

He loaded his shotgun with two shells, cocked it, and aimed at where he saw Red X landed in the raw cement mix. When the dust cleared, Red X was nowhere to be seen. This worried Bob and he started aiming his shotgun in every direction, hunting for a target. Though, in his gut, he felt like _he_ was the one being hunted. He quickly ran deeper into the unfinished building.

Bob found a staircase and started climbing it. Bob thought that climbing the staircase and going up higher into the building was a bad idea, but he felt that he had little choice in the matter. So up he went into the dizzying heights of the unfinished building, scanning floor after floor for his aggressor.

Everything was too eerily quiet for comfort. Nothing moved in the shadows and no sound could be heard. Bob's pulse was racing like mad. Though nothing truly moved except himself, he saw his enemy in every shadow he came across and it was starting to drive him up the wall.

"What's the matter Bob?" Red X's voice echoed throughout the entire space. Bob swiveled his shotgun around nervously.

"Where are you?" demanded Bob.

"I'm in that chill that's crawling down your back…"

Bob started climbing faster "Show yourself!"

"You've done a lot of bad things Bob. Now its time to face up to your crimes.

"Shut up."

"Its time for you to be held accountable for all the sins you've committed. And I'll be the one to deliver the verdict, here and now."

"I said shut up."

"It's time for you… to face your trials."

"Shut up!"

Bob fired a shot into a bunch of drum barrels on one floor then fired another shot into a wooden crate on the next. Both his shots echoed in the wide empty spaces of the building. He was starting to loose it as he started running up the staircase, firing at random stuff on every floor until he reached the top.

Bob finally reached the top floor and ended up looking up at the night sky above. He was now on the top floor, or at least the top most finished floor as the multitude of vertical steel beams protruding over ten feet up indicated that something was still to be built on top of the floor. He swiveled his shotgun around nervously. As usual nothing moved. He fired at random once again, hitting a power generator with his first shot and an empty wooden crate with the second shot. Nothing moved. He was then rushing to reload.

Bob felt a finger tap his back. He turned as quickly as he can only to receive an elbow to the face. Bob was knocked down onto the floor and he also dropped his shotgun in the process. Bob immediately started crawling away for his life. Red X didn't seem to be in a hurry as Bob was.

Bob reached his shotgun and was about to turn and fire. Red X quickly delivered a quick kick to the stomach which caused Bob to again drop the shotgun and let it slide away as he started rolling over in pain. Red X seemed calm as ever. His prey was weak and in distress. To a hunter, that is where the thrill of the hunt is at its peak.

"You killed him…" said Red X.

"W-W-What?" asked Bob, confused as ever.

"He was your friend, your trusted ally. You stabbed him in the back without a second thought."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"You killed my father."

"What? Who the he--?"

"Detective Marvin Davenport."

Bob had a look on his face as if someone had just slammed a sledgehammer to his chest. His mind raced with this new information. A dirty cop he may be, but he was still a decent enough detective to put two and two together. He ran short of breath as a name came out of his mouth, the one name he could think of giving his now very familiar attacker.

"Nick…?" said Bob.

"Not tonight," replied Red X, "Tonight, I'm your reaper…"

Bob nervously backed away as Red X inched ever closer with every step he took. Bob was frantically searching for options but found none as his mind was overloaded with fear. He couldn't do anything but continuously back away which he didn't know at the moment was only leading him into more danger.

"Watch your step," said Red X nonchalantly.

Bob was never able to discern the meaning of that statement. All of a sudden the floor disappeared from under his feet. Bob, in all his backing up, had accidentally stepped over the edge of the floor. In less than a second, Bob disappeared over the edge.

Red X didn't so much as bat an eye. At least not noticeably. For a second or two, Red X refused to move from where he stood. His cape flailed in the wind. If one would look close enough, his hand actually shivered ever so slightly. He couldn't explain why that was, or why his breathing suddenly sped up. A few more moments of hesitation before Red X moved towards the edge of the floor.

Inches form the edge of the rooftop, Red X, again, hesitated for but a moment but eventually he peered over. To his surprise, Bob was not roadkill…yet. Bob was lucky enough to catch a grip at one of the protruding pieces of metal from the cement floor's edge. He was flailing his legs and one arm around desperately. His grip was slowly being lost.

Red X continued to watch Bob struggle to prevent himself from falling to a most certain doom. In a few moments, his grip will be gone and it'll be all over but the clean-up. Bob was screaming in fear, a useless gesture as no-one but the crimson thief above him could hear him at that moment. Red X just kept on watching.

Bob felt his fingers slipping. He looked up and saw his attacker, Red X just watching him and waiting for him to start to fall. His mind was telling him that this was it; it was over. There was nothing that can save him from this one. Finally, the last of Bob's fingers slipped. Not wanting to see his own death, Bob instinctively shut his eyes.

A moment passed.

Strange, Bob thought. He thought falling would feel a little bit more windy. Often he was told that when one is free falling they feel weightless. Bob was still able to feel all of the weight that he was more than ashamed to admit about himself. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes. He looked down and noticed he never fell a single foot down.

Bob looked up to see a rather unexpected sight. Red x was on his knees over the edge of the rooftop gripping Bob's wrist and thereby stopping his fall. Red X was obviously struggling with the detective's weight issue as his arm was visibly shaking from the strain.

Slowly, Red X started to lift Bob up back onto the floor's edge, struggling with every breath. Bob in turn reached up his other hand and grabbed onto Red X's own arm, hanging on for dear life. In an agonizing few seconds, Red X finally managed to muster up enough strength to pulled Bob back onto the top floor.

Bob laid flat on his tummy, panting from his nerves. Red X backed away a bit and collapsed to one knee, panting from his exhaustion. That was more of an effort than he thought it would be.

"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Bob as he got up, "Thank God for you!"

Red X didn't look up to see Bob. He was still catching his breath.

"You're a good kid," continued Bob, "very noble."

Red X finally caught his breath and stood up straight. He turned to face Bob just in time to see a sawed-off shotgun aimed point-blank at his chest. Bob was holding the shotgun and grinned devilishly. Red X couldn't move.

"Stupid…" said Bob, "…but noble…"

Bob pulled the trigger and the shot gun fired. Red X was hit right in the chest and flew back a good distance and landed on the floor on his back. He was immediately screaming and convulsing in total agony. Bob just watched and was obviously happy about what he's done. Still he found it strange that He could still be alive after that blow.

Bob took a closer look and saw that all the pellets from the blast were scattered about on the floor. He looked at Red X and found that there was no blood coming out of his chest. There was only one explanation.

"I see," he said. "That fancy suit of yours is bulletproof. Even at point-blank range, no penetration occurs. Lucky you, kid."

Red X continued to convulse in pain. He seemed to be struggling for breath more than ever.

"Still," continued Bob, "I can't imagine what you're going through right now. That suit maybe bulletproof but the impact must've done quite a number on those rib bones."

Red X was now facing down on all fours. His vision was blurry and the words of Bob were barely registering in his ears. His world was slowly getting dark as the burning in his chest was unbearable. He looked up at Bob. All he saw was the shotgun at his face. He couldn't move.

"That suit of yours maybe able to withstand this last shot," said Bob, "but I'm not so sure about your skull though, heh heh heh…"

Red X knew at that point he was a goner. He had failed. All his efforts had amounted to nothing but his destruction. For once, the thief found himself in an inescapable situation. It was over.

"See you in hell," said Bob as he slowly squeezed the trigger.

But before a shot rang out, Bob suddenly found that he was empty-handed as a black projectile of sorts suddenly knocked the shotgun from his grip and onto the floor. He looked towards where his shotgun fell. Right beside was a small bat-shaped blade of some kind; a batarang.

That's when he also noticed a bat-shaped shadow looming over him. He looked up into the sky. Batgirl came swinging down on a grappling cable. AS she landed she also delivered a quick elbow to Bob's face. Batgirl landed right between Red X as Bob. She quickly got up and faced Bob.

Bob had just recovered from her attack and was now putting up his dukes. A useless gesture since Batgirl was already one of the most skilled martial artist in the world. She sprang up, spun around once, and knocked him at the side of his head with a roundhouse kick. Bob stumbled back a few feet. He tried to counter with a right hook missed the girl entirely as she sidestepped.

Batgirl countered with a powerful knee to the stomach. Bob naturally bent over from the impact. Batgirl quickly followed-up with a powerful uppercut and nailed Bob right in the chin. Bob flew over a pretty high arc and landed flat on his back. He didn't move after he got hit the floor which gave the impression that he was knocked-out. Batgirl sighed in relief and then turned to her other concern.

She kneeled close to the ground in front of Red X and held onto his shoulders to support him. "Hey, X, are you alright?"

Red X could only cough in response.

"Boy… that looked like a bad hit. I came looking for Bob as soon as I saw that his place was trashed. I think you have something to do with it. Your lucky I came here just as that bastard was about to flatten your face with a 12 gauge…"

Over Batgirl's shoulder, Red X saw that Bob was slowly recovering and getting back up. He tried desperately to muster enough breath to warn Batgirl.

"Listen, that hit must've bruised a few ribs and we need to take you to the hospital. Now I know you're finicky about public places but you need help badly."

Red X wasn't paying attention to her. He watched as Bob got up and moved towards his shotgun on the floor. He grabbed it and slowly aimed it at the two costumed teens. Red x was just recovering his breath then and finally was able to mumble something but it was still to low to be understood. "…ook…ut…"

"Huh?" asked Batgirl. "What did you say?"

"…Look out…!"

Red X then grabbed onto her shoulder and forcedly pulled her to the side just as Bob fired his shot. The shot, fortunately, missed both Red X and Batgirl as the two teens went down on to the floor. Instead, Bob accidentally shot the top of a nitrogen tank used for welding.

As the top blew off, the spark of the impact ignited the escaping gas and the tank started flying across the space like a rocket with no fins. All threw of the people on the floor watched carefully as the tank went wild.

In its flight, tank started hitting and bouncing off the various protruding steel beams. It continuously kept bouncing off of the steal beams in an unpredictable flight. Red X, Batgirl, and Bob did not dare move an inch. That action, or lack thereof, turned out to be a bad decision on Bob's part. Unexpectedly, the flying tank of compressed gas bounced off a beam, down onto the floor, up off of the floor, and right to Bob.

Bob turned in the tank's direction all too late. The tank impacted his chest, breaking several ribs and collapsing almost all his internal organs instantaneously. In addition, the tank was powerful enough to carry a screaming Bob across the floor.

"Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgggghhhhh!"

Red X and Batgirl helplessly watched as the man impacted with a stack of oil barrels used for machinery. The stack totally collapsed as Bob impacted. A dozen or so barrels of oil fell on top of Bob, covering him entirely. A barrel was racked and started leaking oil. The tank still had a flame and the leak reached it in a few seconds. The result was predictable enough.

The entire collapsed stack exploded in a bright orange fireball and resounded with an ear-shattering boom that was enough to shake the entire building to its foundation. The shockwave was enough to blow away Red X and Batgirl good distance in different directions across the floor.

When the explosion finally settled, Batgirl looked around to survey the scene. The sight of the explosion was the first thing she looked at. She scanned it thoroughly with her well-trained eyes. Unfortunately, there was pretty much nothing left of the man that was Robert Benedict. Batgirl fought back the urge to hurl her dinner.

She looked around once again to find someone else who she noted had suddenly disappeared. She looked as hard as she can but even with the added light from the fire behind her, she could see no sign of her masked companion.

"X?" she called out, "Are you here?"

No-one answered. He was gone.

Batgirl sighed exasperatingly. She then felt something hit her cheek. It felt like a drop of water. Surely enough, a light shower started right then. Batgirl looked up and felt cool raindrops hit her face.

"Rain, huh…?" she mumbled unconsciously.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Minutes later, on street level.

He was confused and hurt. He didn't know what was going on anymore. Red X simply rushed down an abandoned sidewalk in the cold rain, clutching his chest in pain. Every few feet he would stumble or trip then struggle to get back up. He headed in the direction of his home, the only safe haven he could think of going to.

As the minutes ticked by, more and more of what energy was left in his body was being exhausted. His vision was getting blurry and he found harder to breath with every step. He knew deep in his gut that he wasn't going to make it. Finally, less than three blocks from his place, Red X collapsed onto the sidewalk. His legs were too strained and couldn't continue further.

So he crawled. Using his two remaining limbs, he crawled to the nearest alley. Like most alleys in the city, it was dark and a dump. Rats were feeding off of ripped trash bags beside an old dumpster. Red X crawled all the way up to the dumpster and laid his back against it. He reached up with a shaky hand to his face and slowly removed his mask.

Nick felt a small sense of relief when the mask cam off. Up to now it was practically choking him. He felt a relaxing effect as the raindrops washed his exposed face. He felt himself slowly slipping out of consciousness and even the pain in his chest was starting to numb out.

If he passed out, there was a very low chance he would survive. He knew that, and he didn't care. He couldn't cry for help as his lungs could no longer accommodate for that at the moment. No-one was around anyway. He was utterly helpless at that moment. He continued to look up into the night sky and let the rain wash over his face.

"…D-Dad…" he mumbled. "… I'm sorry… I failed…"

And with that, Nick passed out.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Author's note: Sorry for the lateness of the update. A storm hit my place and my house lost power for a couple of days. But now I'm back in business. Please R&R and tune for my next update in a few days.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or anything else for that matter.

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Somewhere, sometime in a dark night in Jump City.

Somewhere in the uptown district of Jump City an alarm was breaking the silence of the night. A high rise in the middle of the district was the culprit for it. Its windows were alive with blinking red flashes of light and blaring sirens. Somewhere near the top floor, there was what looked like a broken window where something or someone entered.

Inside the supposedly empty hallways, alarms were loud enough to cause ear damage. One should wonder what was so amiss in this particular location that there was such a commotion. To give a clue, two very familiar figures passed through what seemed to be an empty hallway: a girl with orange skin and who was floating in mid-air, along with a bloodhound with an unusually green shade of fur.

Starfire and Beast Boy wandered the empty hallway at a reasonable pace as if looking for something or someone. Starfire kept swiveling her head about trying to spot anything out of the ordinary. Beast Boy, in a blood hound form, kept sniffing the floor.

After a few moments of unsuccessful searching, Starfire's communicator beeped. The both of them stopped in the middle of the hallway as she activated it.

"This is Robin," came their leader's voice through the communicator, "Starfire, Beast Boy, have you guys found him yet?"

"I apologize, Robin," said Starfire, "but I am afraid that he has, as you say, 'given us the slip'"

Beast Boy spontaneously returned to his human form. "Yeah, dude, I can't get a trace of him anywhere."

"I see," said Robin, "Cyborg, Raven, what about you guys?"

"Well, we seemed to have stopped the spread of the fire," said Cyborg's voice.

"But we still need some help down here," said Raven's voice.

Robin's voice came back a little bit irritated. "But what about--?"

"Robin" interrupted Starfire, "I believe it would be more prudent to attend to the troubles below. We must think of the safety of the people first."

"Yeah dude," concurred Beast Boy, "and I don't think we'll be getting anywhere tonight on with this guy."

A moment of hesitation from their leader, "…Alright, then. Starfire, Beast Boy, get to Raven and Cyborg as soon as you can. I'll be on my way as well. Robin out."

Starfire closed her communicator and pocketed it away she then turned to her green companion. "Let us hurry. Our friends need us!" Starfire flew on ahead.

"Right behind you!" said Beast Boy before transforming into an owl and flew after his Tamaranean teammate.

A few moments where nothing happened…

Suddenly, Red X materialized out of thin air in the middle of the hallway, not more than five feet from where the two Titans were at just a few seconds ago. The thief looked in the direction the two went off in with a somewhat amused look. He chuckled softly, which was hardly audible due to the blaring alarms around him.

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a small computer chip. Red X and the Titans knew this as the MAX 8.5; successor to the MAX 7. It was a prototype in development with several features that make it many times the superior of its predecessor. It was also many times more expensive than its predecessor. And now, it was Red X's latest catch.

Things went well for him tonight, all things considered. It went smooth from his initial entry into the building and all the way up to the part where he broke the very valuable piece of technology out of its supposedly impregnable holding area which was a heck of a lot easier to break into than he had anticipated. His run of luck ended there however.

He couldn't tell whether it was a hidden alarm or just a fluke but no more than two second after acquiring his prize, the master thief found himself facing against the ever popular Teen Titans. Though annoyed, he wasn't that surprised. And he wasn't that concerned either.

Once Robin's ever witty opening line was said, the real fun started. It was simple enough to use the suit's abilities to exploit the Titan's individual weaknesses quickly earning the thief some considerable advantage. Then when the moment was right, a simple x-bomb in the right place created for a really good distraction.

The explosion resulted in a small but terrible fire but Red X knew that the Titans were quite capable of taking care of it. Even so, they still would've needed some time. Enough time for him to make his escape. His plan worked and now, with the city's heroes occupied, Red X was free to leave. And leave he did. He pocketed his prize away and went for the nearest fire exit.

Red X only had to climb a few floors I order to reach the roof of the building. He broke through the roof access door easily enough. He took a moment to look around. It seemed to be safe. Red X calmly walked towards the roof's edge.

"Well, that was fun," he said into the empty air. "I almost wish it wasn't that easy…"

He sensed something coming towards him at high speed. Red X unleashed an x-blade on his hand and swung it towards his behind. The x-blade in his hand ripped apart an airborne birdarang. Red X recoiled from his defensive swing of his arm and stood tall. He saw what was expectedly Robin, standing right in front of the fire escape exit in a follow-through pose.

Robin regained his stance. "Be careful what you wish for, X," he said.

"Robin," said Red X, "you just can't let life get boring, can you?"

"Return the MAX 8.5, now!"

Red X mockingly placed a hand on his chin and supported that arm with his other, looking like he's contemplating. "Oh gee, what should I do? How will I ever be able to answer that? Oh I know! How about… 'Go screw yourself!'?"

Robin gritted his teeth. "I am so taking you down for that!"

Robin charged in with a ready bo-staff. Red X was ready with an x-blade in each hand. Robin charged in with his bo-staff swinging high. Red X easily ducked under the path of the weapon. Red X slashed at Robin with a bladed hand. Robin took a step back and avoided a cut.

Robin twirled his bo-staff and swung downwards at Red X's skull. Red X raised both hands and caught the staff with his twin x-blades. Robin, noticing an opening, swung on of his legs out towards the vulnerable body of Red X. Before the kick was able to his Him, Red X raised a leg of his own and blocked Robin's kick with his knee.

Red X pushed off Robin's bo-staff. Robin stumbled back a bit but soon regained his stance. Red X was the one to mount and attack this. Red X charged in with his two x-blades poised. Robin stood tall and ready but didn't expect how Red X jumped over him and landed behind him Robin was able to duck as he knew Red x was swinging his bladed hands horizontally.

Robin was quick enough that Red x missed him While still low on the ground Robin twisted his body to face Red X. Red X was swinging down both of his bladed hands down at the kneeling Robin. Robin in turn raised his bo-staff horizontally and blocked Red X's hands. Red X raised a foot and made it like he was about to throw a kick.

Robin saw what was coming and reacted accordingly. Robin pushed off the bladed hands of Red X just as the thief's foot flew up at Robin's face. Robin, who just freed his staff from Red X's hands, lowered the bo-staff in front of the incoming kick. The kick impacted the bo-staff and propelled Robin up and back.

Robin flipped in midair and quickly regained his orientation. Robin landed back on his two feet and stood ready facing Red X. Red X himself stood ready. Robin again fancily twirled his staff and held it at ready. Red X charged at the boy wonder, throwing a couple of x-shrunken on the way. Robin easily batted away the incoming shuriken with his staff but in doing so made him slightly vulnerable for a short moment.

Red X capitalized on this moment and went sliding feet-first on the rooftop gravel like a ball player trying to nail a safe. Robin saw this and quickly figured that Red X was trying to trip him. Robin was a lot quicker than Red X anticipated and the boy wonder easily flipped over and let the thief pass from under him.

As soon as Robin landed, Red X stopped his slide and flipped himself back up to a standing position, though facing away from Robin when he did. Red X quickly turned around in time to see Robin swinging a foot up at Red X's face. Red X quickly brought a hand to block it. Robin started throwing a flurry of kicks and swings but Red X managed to block and evade them all.

Red X grabbed Robin's staff during one of its swings. He pushed it aside with one hand and tried to slash at Robin with the other. Robin ducked his head to evade. Robin twisted his bo-staff from Red X's grip and pushed him off. The thief and the hero repelled from each other like opposing magnets. Robin took a ready stance. Red X looked like he was about to do the same, but a particular sound he heard in the distance made him think otherwise.

"Sound's like my ride's here," said Red X.

"What?" said Robin.

"Catch you later."

With that, Red X promptly turned around and leapt off the edge the rooftop. Robin went wide-eyed at the seemingly suicidal action by his adversary. He then rushed towards the edge of the rooftop himself. After peering over the edge, Robin easily spotted Red X who happened to somehow end up on top of a speeding elevated rail transit train which happened to be right next to the building.

Red X looked back up at Robin and mockingly waved a hand. Robin, not standing for the insult, retracted his bo-staff and grabbed a grappling hook. Robin then expertly leapt off the edge and gracefully fell through the air. Mid-way down, Robin launched his grappling hook at the side of the building.

Down bellow, Red X watched with a certain degree of entertainment as Robin swung on his grappling cable and landed right on the end of the train cars. Red X was quite amused when Robin nearly fell and had to throw his arms around to regain balance. After a while, Robin traveled up the train cars to where Red X was in the middle.

By then, Robin had already taken out his bo-staff and extended it. Red X didn't look a bit nervous whatsoever. The two stood apart from each other, ready to launch or receive any attack from the other. Robin acted first by rushing forward and sweeping his staff at Red X's feet.

Red X managed to hop over the attack and land back on his feet. Robin continued the momentum of his staff and performed a complete three-sixty while spring back up to a stand. The bo-staff came swinging around and almost nailed Red X in the chin. Luckily for him, Red X managed to duck out of the staff's path.

While kneeling down, Red X unleashed an x-blade in each hand once again and launched his whole body up in an uppercut. Robin nearly had his face slashed had it not been for his highly developed reflexes which allowed him to take a couple of steps back to avoid the strike. Robin distanced himself from Red X and held his staff at ready. Red X took a more casual stance but did not retract the blades on his hands.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Robin. "Why do you just keep stealing what's not yours?"

Red X shrugged. "It's a hobby."

"A hobby?"

"Everyone needs a hobby, bird boy. Yours is swinging around town, fighting crime, and saving the day. Mine is annoying the hell out of you."

"What kind of a stupid reason is that?"

"Oh, please. Robin, you of all people should know that we don't need a reason to do the things we do."

"That's not true. Every action must have a purpose for it to be meaningful."

"No, Robin. We do what we do because we can. It's as simple as that. The only things that control destiny is our own wills and choices. That is the purest form of the purpose of any action."

"Do you really think it comes down to just the person's will?"

"You think it doesn't?"

"Tsk! That's so like you to say something like that. Your actions may only serve your own satisfaction while I see mine as serving a higher purpose than just my own wants and needs."

"Maybe, but it was still your choice, Robin. You're no different from me."

"I'm nothing like you!"

Red X brought up a hand and gestured to his face with his thumb. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the first one to wear this mask."

Robin was somewhat silence at that.

"If you really think," continued Red X, "that you're serving a higher purpose than your own will, then tell me something. Why are you wearing a mask, Robin? Why hide your true face and refuse to acknowledge your true self as the one who does these actions. If you're so sure that you're doing the right thing, why hide your intentions? Or is all that bravado just as deep as that mask of yours?"

Robin was silent for a moment. "… Then tell this then. Why are you wearing a mask? If you're so sure about yourself then why hide your own identity. "

Red X didn't have an immediate answer. Robin saw his small victory there and continued.

"Hah! I thought so. You couldn't possibly understand my point of view. You're just a thief who cares for nothing else but yourself. How could you possibly understand risking everything you have for another when you don't even have anything precious to truly call your own?"

Red X tightened his fists. "Kid, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"No matter what you say, you're a thief. And that's good enough reason for me to do what I'm about to do: take you down!"

"You're not getting me tonight, bird boy… or any other night for that matter."

"Like heck I'm not!"

Robin started charging in on Red X. The thief thrust both his arms forward and the two x-blades shot out like missiles towards Robin. Robin had to stop and twirls his bo-staff in order to block the two projectiles. This left him off-guard for just a second but it was enough of a second for Red X to capitalize on.

Red X charged in while Robin was just recoiling from the previous attack. At Robin's most vulnerable moment, Red X jumped into the air and kicked Robin square in the chin. Robin was knocked on his back and Red X landed behind him.

Red looked over his shoulder as Robin was struggling to get up. "Night's young, kid. See you 'round…"

With that, Red X leapt high into the air and vanished. Robin was left alone on top of the train. As he stood back up, he saw no sign of the crimson thief. He muttered a curse under his breath. At that time, his communicator started beeping. He mechanically picked it up.

"Robin here," he said into the communicator.

"So…" said Raven's monotone voice, "…did you get him."

"…No, he got away."

"I see… well we'll just meet back at the tower right?"

"Right, but do you guys have that fire under control?"

"Well taken care of."

"Back at the tower it is then. Robin out."

Robin closed his communicator and looked out at the night sky one last time. Then he took out his grappling hook then swung away into the night.

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Back at the present.

They say that when you know you are close to death, your life flashes before your eyes. Nick Davenport, as he slumbered deeply, found this out first hand. Of course it wasn't his entire life that he saw. Even for a guy his age, that was still a little too much stuff to remember instead all he saw were tidbits of what he called his life.

He saw only the moment he cared to remember. Those moments that one never really forgets. Moments that, no matter how much time has passed, would always seem like that they happened yesterday. It was one such moment he just saw; one of his many encounters with the Titans.

He wondered why he ever considered that particular memory to be significant on any scale. He had plenty more encounters with the Titans, and other super powered third parties, that he thought would have held more significance than that one particular scenario. What made it so special?

Then like a tape recorded massage, Robin's words echoed in his mind once again: "How could you possibly understand risking everything you have for another when you don't even have anything precious to truly call your own?" In his mind, Nick gave the same reply as e did that night. Kid, you have no idea. Though, deeper in the back of his mind, he question whether that reply was really valid.

And then he woke up…

Upon waking up, he noticed three things in order. Firstly, he was hurt. His ribs were aching but only slightly now as the pain seemed to have subsided considerably. His ribs no longer felt on fire like they did back at the alley before he passed out. Instead they just felt like an anvil was pressing against them. Not that pleasant but better than the alternative.

The second thing he noticed was the fact that he was not dead. This came to him more as a surprise rather than a relief. Down at that alley, he was surest of is own demise more than ever in his entire lifetime. And he has gone through some very precarious situations in the past. Still, an important lesson he learned along the road is that not everything goes as you would expect it to. Still, he didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing at the moment.

The third thing he noticed was his surroundings. Upon opening his eyes his first thoughts were that the afterlife looked a lot like the inside of his bedroom. A few minute of his senses recalibrating allowed him to see that this was the real world and this was the inside of his bedroom dimly lit with a lamp on top of his drawer and he was lying on his bed. He could also hear the rain tapping rhythmically at his bedroom window.

He inspected himself. He found that all he was wearing were his pants and boots from the Red X suit. He was shirtless and unmask as well. He brought a hand to his bare chest and felt something that wasn't skin. He looked down and in the dim light he could see that the majority of his chest area and shoulders were covered in a snug wrapping of bandages.

Nick could feel that the bandages were a little soaked. Looking towards his bedside table he saw the reason for it. There was a bowl there and inside was a used ice bag. Next to the bowl were several tubes of medicinal ointments used to cure some bruising and a bottle of aspirin. Handy, considering his situation, but he was pretty sure, even in his shoddy state, he didn't apply it himself.

So that's the real question isn't it? A few minutes after waking up, Nick got his answer. A rather unexpected answer.

His bedroom door opened and the familiar figure of Tara walked in, holding a tray with a bottle of water and a ready made tuna sandwich. She was dressed casually in a white blouse and blue jeans. Nick couldn't help but stare in shock and Tara didn't seem surprised at the look. She herself had a look that was between indifferent and antagonistic.

"Oh good," she said in a flat monotone, "you're awake."

Nick tried to come up with some kind of response but found no words whatsoever.

"I got you some food," she continued. "It'll help you regain your strength."

She walked over and placed the tray right on his bedside table. Nick's gaze followed her as she moved across the room. Tara, on the other hand, seemed to be avoiding his gaze as best she could. After placing down the tray, Tara picked up the bowl with the ice bag as well as the medicinal stuff next to it. She then proceeded to walk out of the room.

Nick was able to mutter something for her to hear before she left. "…Wait…! Tara… what are you--?"

"You should get some rest," she said without looking back. "Your ribs aren't broken but they're still bruised. Get some sleep."

She exited the room and closed the door behind her without so much as a parting glance. Nick was left dumbfounded. His first thought was to get out of bed and go to confront her. But just then another more pressing thought interrupted him as his stomach softly grumbled. He momentarily forgot about Tara as he looked to his side and at the sandwich that was prepared for him.

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In the living room.

There wasn't any single word to describe what Tara was feeling right then and there as she was seated on the Davenport's dining table drinking a warm cappuccino that she had prepared for herself earlier. And while there is a cascading amount of emotions on her at that moment, the one thing could probably best describe how she was feeling was confused.

Not the kind of confused feeling you get like when you take an exam and a trick question comes up which catches you off-guard. But more along the lines of the confused feeling you get when you jump out of a plane in the middle of nowhere and not having a single bit of knowledge on how you can find your way to any discernable location. That kind of confused.

She didn't know how the night ended up so complicated. But she knew it didn't start off that way.

It seemed like a normal night at first. After her call from Nick's mother, she made an impromptu decision to come over at Nick's place. Not wanting Nick to be lonely and not wanting to be lonely herself, since she herself happened to have some time to herself at that night, Tara decided to kill two birds with one stone.

To Tara's unfortunate surprise, she found one of those birds already half-dead, resting against a dumpster in a dark alley in the pouring rain wearing a rather conspicuous piece of clothing with a reputable background to it. By then, the night was nowhere near what anyone would call normal.

She gave out an exasperating sigh and sipped the warm cup of cappuccino in front of her. The warm feeling as the drink slid down her throat was quite soothing. Yet try as she might the persistent question of "now what?" was racking her mind.

Suddenly the door to Nick's room burst open. Tara looked behind her to see Nick walk out in a hurry and stuffing the last bits of the tuna sandwich she made for him. He was still dressed in only his black pants and boots with bandages covering most of his abdomen. Nick looked around and found Tara sitting on the dining table. Again she gave him that look of indifference.

"Tara!" he called out to her, "How did you get here?"

"I used he key in your pocket," she said plainly, " and I had to sneak you through the freight entrance. Reasons are obvious."

Nick figured out that line soon enough. "Um… Tara… I'm sorry about this."

"About what?" she replied with a hint of what might be sarcasm.

Nick noticed and was a little more than annoyed. "Tara, please, not now."

"About the fact that you're secretly the Red X, thief extraordinaire and rival of the Teen Titans? Is that what you're sorry about?"

"Well… yeah, kinda. Look, you were never supposed to know."

"Believe me; I think I would've preferred it that way." She took a long, long sip of her cappuccino.

Nick, feeling a little agitated for some reason, decided to try and changed the subject. "So… what are you doing here?"

"Your mom called, said you might like some company while she's away."

"Right… Where is my mom?"

"She left earlier than expected. Left you a note on the fridge. As for me I decided to come by for us to hang out or something. Had nothing to do at my place."

"But what about your--?"

"Out of town on business. Won't be back for a couple of days."

"Oh… okay… So… now you know…"

"Yup, and now you have to kill me right? Protect your closely guarded secrete and all that…?"

"No, of course not! If anything, you practically just saved my life. I owe you one."

"Oh, don't mention it…"

She turned away and ignored him and took an even longer sip from her cup of cappuccino. Nick could tell that it was something in the atmosphere that was deeply agitating him. He was pretty sure he was looking at the source of it. He knew she just saved his life but that constant monotone he was getting from her was driving him up the wall.

"Tara…" he called to her, trying his best not to raise his voice. "Tell me, is there something wrong?"

Tara looked back at him with what looked like genuine dumbfound. "…Something wrong?"

Nick for his part couldn't reply with anything else but a shrug of his shoulders. Tara's face remained blank as she picked up he cappuccino and drank the last amounts of it. After setting the cup down on the table, she got up from her chair and started walking towards where Nick was standing.

Nick didn't move from where he stood. Tara walked towards him at a really slow pace, all the while keeping her head down. She stopped about two feet from Nick and then looked up at his face. Nick looked down on her face being about three inches taller than her. He tried to see any discernable sign as to what she was thinking. He couldn't see any.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, Tara's hand flew up and slapped Nick clear across the face. Nick was able to clearly feel his cheek and jaw bones rattle under the impact of the slap. He could already feel the skin on his cheek start to form a bruise. He swore that not even Starfire had ever slapped him that hard. He was partially thankful that she didn't attack an already injured area, and he had plenty of that.

Nick was forced to look away from her because of the slap. Eventually he turned back his head towards Tara with both a questioning and angry look. He quickly changed his expression when he saw Tara's which was also showing anger but at the same on the brink of tears.

"You are an inconsiderate," started Tara, "thoughtless, self-centered, thick-headed, infantile degenerate, that's what you are! The most idiotic, moronic, most immature, poorest excuse of a self-serving asshole on this side of the hemisphere! You stupid, stupid, stupid bastard! That's what you are!"

Nick stammered for words. "T-T-Tara? Wh-What do you--?"

"You lied to me!" Tara exclaimed, "That's what the damn problem is!"

"Okay, I'm sorry I kept the whole Red X thing a secret from you. But you have to understand that--"

"Not that! You lied to me about you moving on."

"What?"

"You're still in that same rut you were in when you're father died. You never left it."

"Hey, leave him out of this! He's got nothing to do with this!"

He's got everything to do with this! Don't lie to me anymore, Nick. It's always been about him, no-one else. You think I don't read the news, I don't hear the rumors? Your father was killed by Falcone's goons just like that other cop. After that, the Red X started tearing up everything remotely related to Falcone. Now I find you, dressed in black with a cape and a skull mask. I may not be as smart as you in school, Nick, but I know enough to put two and two together. You say you've moved on but you haven't moved an inch forward!"

"What? You can't talk to me like that! You have no idea what the hell I'm going through. He was my father and he was stabbed in the back! Literally! You think I can let Falcone and his goons get away with that?"

"The law is not yours to take Nick! Doing what you did, you're no better off than one of Falcone's goons. You're only stooping to their level."

"Don't you dare compare me to those low-life scumbags, Tara! I'm better than them!"

"Not now, you're not. You're just a punk with an agenda who can't see what's right and what's wrong."

"This is something I have to do!"

"No, it's not! The only thing you have to do is to move on! You need to leave the past behind and move on! You owe that much to your father if you ever want to do him true justice."

"Don't tell me that. I have moved on!"

"No you haven't! How can you say you moved on when you can't even see the things that are important and are right in front of you, you lummox?"

"Like what?"

"Like me!"

Nick froze, unable to come up with a response to that. Tara's eyes finally reached their limit and a few drops of tears started sliding down her face. She dropped her head a bit to avoid Nick's gaze as if trying to hide her eyes from him. Despite all the emotion welling up in her, she managed to keep a straight face about it.

Nick, for his part, started to feel like the dumbest man in the world. He found himself breathless as well as speechless. He couldn't bring himself to look at the girl in front of him so he turned away from her, trying to keep himself composed. He could hear Tara softly sobbing next to him and it was breaking his heart.

He figured that she was just returning the favor. Looking back, he did loose touch of what was important. He was inadvertently pushing away the only people who truly cared for him. His only hope of seeing light in the length of the dark tunnels he's been walking. Again, Robin's word rang in his head. And now he knew the boy wonder was right. He had nothing precious. He chose not to have any. A choice he deeply regretted.

He was the Red X and everything that name stood for; self-centered and uncaring of the troubles of others. He was a thief who has nothing precious to call his own so he steals from others instead. He was a lone wolf without a purpose or a meaning of which to guide him. And because of that, everything that was ever worth truly having was pushed away and ignored.

Nick felt absolutely sick to his stomach. Sick about himself and what he has become. He tried to look at Tara again and almost failed. Now he felt that he was obliged to say something.

"…Tara…" he muttered softly to her, "I… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry."

Tara slowed her soft sobbing a bit. "…You're sorry…?"

"I must've… worried you so much."

She brought a hand up to wipe her face. "Well, of course I was worried about you. I'm always worried about you, ever since you've been acting a little weird. I worry about you even when I'm not thinking about you. And still, I can't get you out of my mind because…"

She stopped in mid-speech. Nick looked at her a little worriedly himself. Before he knew it, she took a step forward and closed the gap between them. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. Nick felt her tears even through the bandages that were covering his upper body. They felt warm.

"I'm not sure what this feeling is I have for you, Nick…" softly said Tara, "… but I feel as though I just don't want to see you gone. I don't want to see you disappear. I want you to stay…"

Slowly, gently, Nick wrapped his arms around Tara who didn't protest to the act.

"Don't worry about that anymore, Tara…" he gently whispered in her ear. "I'm here… I'll stay… I promise…"

At that moment, Nick felt something. A feeling he never encountered before. A feeling that he couldn't get even from the nighttime escapades through the city. He felt like he had something. Something more precious and more valuable than everything he's ever stolen. And he didn't want to ever let it go.

No more words were exchanged that night. There was no more need for words. In Nick's mind, Red X, Falcone, everything else disappeared. Nothing else mattered but the moment. He couldn't bring himself to care for anything else. As the two held each other for what passed as an eternity, the night simply melted away along with everything else.

Outside, in the dark night of the city, the rain finally stopped.

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Author's note: Thirteen chapters done and only a few more to go. Pls. R&R! 


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or anything related to them.

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Weeks earlier, at Gotham City General Hospital.

Worried could barely describe the feeling of Barbara Gordon as she waited in the hallway of the busy hospital. Seated on the bench right outside a room where things were happening that she desperately wanted to know about, she tapped her foot nervously on the cold tiled floor. Her hands were gripping on her long, white cotton skirt, wrinkling the fabric. Every three seconds her eyes would switch towards the door next to her then the floor.

She looked down at her wristwatch and saw that the time was 8:34 pm. She got up and started pacing a short distance in front of the door she was waiting on. She paced back and forth while using her hands to tightly close the light blue blazer she was wearing over her plain white blouse as if she was trying to keep out a chill even though the hall wasn't even that cold.

She kept pacing and pacing only a short distance in front of the door. Even though she paced a distance of only some fifteen feet or so, she felt as though she was walking miles on her red high heeled slippers. As she paced, she brought up her hands and inspected her fingernails. She wanted to bite them but she told herself that her red nail polish will only poison her.

She kept pacing for what seemed like a long time. She then sat back down on the bench for a long time. She got up again and paced for an even longer time than before. The she sat down again. She started tapping her foot nervously again and began tending to an itch on her shoulder that wasn't really there. She got up and paced once again for the longest time yet, as she felt it.

She felt that practically forever passed by in her pacing and sitting and pacing again. She checked her wristwatch again. It read 8:41 pm.

"Oh, come on!" she exclaimed in frustration.

She was about to kick the wall when she managed to compose herself and force her tense body to sit back down on the bench. She growled under her breath in anger that time can't move a little faster. She felt herself slowly going insane from all the tension.

At that moment the door finally opened and a doctor dressed in a surgeon's gown stepped out ith an exasperating sigh. Barbara noticed and was standing in front of the doctor in no less than two seconds. This startled the doctor quite a bit as Barbara started questioning.

"Well?" she asked in a rush. "What happened? Is he gonna be alright?"

"Calm down Ms. Gordon, please," said the doctor. "I wouldn't want to have to anesthetize you too."

"But…" Barbara slowed to compose herself, "…is he alright?"

"Your father is out of danger Ms. Gordon," said the doctor reassuringly.

"Oh thank God!... But, will there be any permanent damage?"

"No, there won't. The wound was clean enough that it missed all the vital parts and whatever damaged was made should heel in a few weeks. The trauma, however, has left him in a sort of coma and he'll be asleep for a good day or so."

"Oh… I see. But, if he's alive and well… I guess that's good enough for."

"You should realize that he is quite lucky to have survived. A lesser man would have been a goner for sure. It's nothing short of a miracle actually."

"No, it's not a miracle."

"Pardon?"

"I've long since learned, doctor, that there are hardly any miracles in this world. My father survived because of who he was. He's tough for an old man. Well over thirty years on the force. It was like you said; a lesser man would've been a goner."

"Well, in any case he's still pretty much out of commission. With your consent, we'd like to keep him here for observation."

"That's fine. I don't mind at all… but can I see him before I leave?"

"Of course, Ms. Gordon…"

The doctor opened the door for her and she entered. Inside was your average ER room: white walls, bright lights, and the distinct smell of iron oxide. She held her breath as if to try and block out the smell. She walked to the center of the room where on the surgical bed laid Commissioner Jim Gordon of the GCPD, but she preferred to call him "daddy".

He looked so peaceful, lying there half covered by a blanket. You'd never be able to tell he went through one heck of an ordeal and barely survived. Barbara made her best attempt at a straight face but her features couldn't help but cringe even slightly.

According to doctors, the wound he inflicted in the back of his head should've killed him instantly. A stab directly into the medulla at the back of the brain would have mean instant death. However, through some circumstance, the blade that stabbed him managed to enter at a low enough angle that missed anything vital, though the attack did sever some nerves that left the commissioner paralyzed. Whoever tried to kill him made the mistake of thinking the man was truly dead but in the state the commissioner was in, the killer couldn't be blamed for the mistake.

Some time later, patrols looking specifically for the commissioner, found the old man on the brink of death and immediately brought him to Gotham General. Surgery was immediately started to repair the commissioner's severed nerves. Half-way through the operation, Barbara received the call and was at the hospital in no time flat.

Now he was safe, and she should be happy about that. Deep down she was, but there was another feeling welling up. She didn't show it to anyone as she finally excused herself and left. On her way out, the doctor reminded here that he will call if anything would arise. Barbara thanked him and was out of the room.

Walking down the hallway, Barbara carried a blank stare. The hallway she was currently on headed directly towards the main entrance. Ahead, she could clearly see the front desk and several benches for waiting people. Midway down the hallway, she stopped in front of an elevator. She pressed the "up" button and waited patiently.

The door eventually opened. Barbara allowed a male nurse to walk out while pushing a wheelchair carrying a man with a cast on his leg. She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. As she waited for the doors to close, an old woman carrying flowers joined her. The doors closed and they went up together. Barbara was quietly standing on one side while the old lady was on the other. At some point the old lady, supposedly feeling bored, started a conversation with Barbara who was accommodating enough.

"Good evening, young lady," said the old woman.

"You too," replied Barbara.

"I'm here to see my nephew. He was in a car accident, though he isn't hurt too bad."

"Good for him."

"Are you here to see someone too?"

"Well, I just saw him, actually."

"Can I ask how he is? Or am I being too imposing?"

"No, grandma, your not. I don't mind. In fact, I'm happy to report that he'll he just fine. He's a tough guy. Gonna need a couple of days for rest though but he'll be up on he's feet I no time. That's one bit of good news today."

"Oh, that's fantastic news, dear. So, where are you off to now?"

"Gonna go see someone else."

"Is he in the hospital too?"

"Oh, no he's not administered as a patient…"

"That's good…"

Barbara mumbled the next thing she said under her breath so that the old lady couldn't hear. "…but I know a lot of people who says he should be…"

The door eventually opened to the top floor. After stepping out, the old lady thanked Barbara for her company and walked off in one direction. Barbara waved goodbye then walked off in another direction. As if being pulled by an invisible thread, Barbara walked up to the fire escape door. Taking a second to make sure no-one was around to see her go in, she opened the door and made her way to the roof.

The hospital it self was no more than ten floors high and wasn't as tall as its neighboring buildings but the view from the roof was nonetheless breathtaking. Barbara didn't feel the effect as she was used much, much higher ledges. She walked forward towards the edge of the rooftop, the wind blowing at her forcing her to pull her blazer tight to fight the chill. Looking out towards the city, she waited patiently on the rooftop edge for something.

Or someone.

"How is he?" the voice came from behind her was a deep growl of sorts. Like the sound of a feral cat in the deep jungle as it growls. Though she may have heard that voice hundreds of times already, something in it still made her cringe and her blood turn cold.

Barbara didn't bother looking back to see who it was as she answered. "You already know the answer to that."

"Yes, but I still want to here an answer from you."

"Why?"

"So that I can make sure you actually believe that answer."

Barbara was silent for a moment. "…He'll be fine. Considering whom he was up against, he's lucky to be alive. You know who did it, don't you."

"An assassin going by the alias Silencer. I'm aware of him and his preferred method of execution by directly stabbing the medulla of the brain for an instantaneous death."

"And you also know who he's working for, right."

"Adrian Falcone."

"So, how long will it take you to nail him? I can help, you know? I can come with you and make sure that that bastard will never--"

"Sorry, Barbara, but that's not going to happen."

Barbara swiftly turned around. "What!"

Turning around, she finally got a full glimpse at the dark knight himself. His tall muscular form overshadowed her easily. She stared directly into his eyes that were no more than two thing white strips under his imposing cowl. Anyone who would look into those eyes would immediately fell as if their very soul was being drained out of their bodies.

There was always something about the Batman that seemed to directly tap into the sense of fear present in all men. You can never really tell what it is until you actually meet the man in person, rare as that is. Maybe it's the way his cowl contorts the shape of his face to make it look like he really is some kind of feral predator ready to pounce on you. Maybe it's the way his cape hid what you instinctively know as more than a thousand ways to take down a man. Whichever it may be, you don't face the Batman without feeling like your already lost.

Barbara easily shrugged that feeling away. "How can you say that? Isn't he you're friend?"

"He is," said Batman.

"Then why won't you do this for him?"

"What? You mean take revenge? Will that solve your grievances, Barbara?"

"I… I don't know! But you can't just let it sit like this. You can't let Falcone get away with this."

"I won't but now is not the time, Barbara."

"What are you talking about?"

"Falcone is well outside my reach at the moment. He's already moved out of Gotham and is setting up shop in another city, I don't know which. Plus, in his absence, Penguin has started taking over his old factories and began producing Venus and distributing it on the streets. I have to take care of that first before I make any attempts at Falcone again."

"You can't do that!"

"Yes I can. And I will. Gotham comes first…Always."

He started walking towards her, then past her. Barbara didn't follow his form or look behind her as he passed. She continued to stare at the direction where she originally found him standing. She was gritting her teeth in anger and making tight enough fists that there was a danger of her own fingernails breaking her palms.

"By the way," said the Dark night from behind her, "Don't think you can try and go take on Falcone on your own. Remember, Barbara: Revenge won't solve anything. You can't take on Falcone on your own."

She turned around, hoping to get a last insult in, but when she did, there was no-one to talk to. The Batman was gone, as if swallowed by the night. Barbara didn't bother making anymore attempts to somehow call on him again knowing it would be useless. She turned around one last time and headed for the emergency exit.

"Like hell I can't…" she mumbled under her breath.

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Jump City, back at the present.

Over the winding streets of the metropolis known as Jump City, Batgirl was expertly swinging across buildings on her grappling cable. Not really looking for anything in particular, she just kept on swinging across the night air for the sake of finding something to find.

Back in the older days, when she was just getting started on her career as the Batgirl, Gotham's dark winged guardian angel, she loved simply swinging across the night like this. It used to be such a thrill like a rollercoaster ride unlike any other, it was not only a great method of travel but also a good way to relieve some pent-up tension.

The latter of the two was the reason she was swinging around as she did. However, the method wasn't working the way she hoped. Maybe she had outgrown it or maybe there were just too many things that were making her tense. And she had plenty of things to be tense about.

Tings had not gone as planned. She was overstaying her schedule here in Jump City. She should have nailed Falcone by then but she was nowhere near nailing the crooked mob boss. All she was doing was the fundamental equivalent of beating around the bush. Her thoughts briefly returned to Batman's words: "revenge won't solve anything." She wondered. Was that her only motivation here?

All this time, she thought she was doing the right thing. That she was doing what all heroes do: take down the bad guy for the sake of justice. Thinking back, that last word seemed to have lost meaning over the recent times ever since she started this foolhardy skirmish against Falcone. There was no justice in her objective, only personal gain. True, taking down Falcone would only mean that he would get what's coming to him but justice was only riding shotgun on this trip.

Batman was right, like always. As much as Batgirl denied it, it was true. She wasn't solving anything at this pace. She briefly remembered something the Flash once quoted: "Grandma Flash used to say that the problem with "an eye for an eye" is that everybody ends up blind." Batgirl was ashamed of herself for loosing her sights long ago. She knew then and there that she needed to drastically reevaluate the situation and herself.

On top of all that, there was the problem with this Red X. Up until just a few days ago, the master thief of Jump City was never a factor in this entire ordeal. Now, that guy was all over the place, causing problems on her side just as much as he was on Falcone's. Confronting him was the most direct approach but she doubted that method's effectively considering their first encounter.

As she swung outwards from a tall skyscraper, he glance turned to the side for a short while. On top of a nearby rooftop, she saw Red X looking back up at her. Speak of the devil. Immediately she reoriented her swing and headed in his direction. Red x made no indication that he planned ton leave. If anything he was waiting for her.

Bargirl landed on the rooftop. She landed about ten feet from the crimson thief. She got up and stood ready as if expecting a little hostility from the thief. Red X, however, seemed as docile as ever. He simply stood still, his long cape draped over his athletic figure. Strange, thought Batgirl, he sort of reminds her of another caped crime fighter, only a lot darker and a lot less hair gel.

"I was hoping to see you tonight," said Red X, calm and non-threatening.

Batgirl relaxed somewhat. "You were? What for?"

"I thought we needed to talk about certain things. I think it's pretty obvious we have a mutual target."

"You mean Falcone? Yeah, I noticed that. What do you want to do about it?"

"I want to help you… if you want me to; I mean it's only a friendly offer."

"You…do? Is this one of your tricks?"

"No tricks. I'm convinced that this is what should be done. I should make up to you for all the trouble I caused. I was never really part of this whole equation from the start, was I? This only serves to balance that little mistake out."

"Why do you want to do this?"

"Like most people in my line of work, there are debts I have to repay. I just chose this way to do it."

"Hold on! Why the change all of a sudden? I'm not convinced that's the only reason."

"Do I really need a reason?"

"Yes, you do. Everybody needs a reason for the things they do. It's a sign that what they do is worth something."

Though invisible to Batgirl due to his cape draped over his form, Red X cringed at that last remark. There was something about it that was hauntingly nostalgic. "I…see. Yeah, you're right."

"Then what reason do you have."

Red X momentarily hesitated as if gathering his thoughts. Once ready, he gave his answer. "Falcone, he… took something from me…No…he took some_one_ from me."

Batgirl's once narrow eyes grew wide. Her Body became less tense. She was now listening intently to the thief, feeling what seemed to be empathy.

"I know Falcone has killed a lot of people. One of them was… a little closer to me that would've wished. All this time, I thought I had moved on with it but I soon learned that the only thing driving me from that point on was my thirst for vengeance. It was ruining me and hurting the few precious things I had left. At first, I really didn't give a damn, but because of people like you, I know what's important now."

Batgirl was stunned to say the least. Every word that Red X spoke sounded absolutely authentic and wholehearted. Batgirl was ashamed of herself for the fact that she had to hear a testimony like that from a well known master thief before she herself had the guts to admit the same thing. At that point she felt lower than a snake on the ground.

She wished she could have said that earlier and in the way Red X himself said it. The way he said it himself, he didn't sound like he was asking for sympathy. While regret and remorse was clearly present, his voice didn't loose any of that vigor and tenacity that made him such a feared figure in the ungrounded world. He was truly a changed man but what was truly his essence stayed. That was both intriguing and a little frightening at the same time.

"This isn't right…" said Batgirl.

"Yes it is. I don't want this to end up as another revenge story. My illusion of justice was just a poor excuse for a selfish vendetta that--"

"No, you're right. It's me that's not right."

"Say what?"

Batgirl took a moment to gather her thoughts. "I'm no better than what you think I am. I'm here for the same selfish reasons as you started with…And the sad part is that, I didn't really loose that person. He'll be back on his feet in no time flat. But you… you really lost someone didn't you?"

"I…see."

"Getting that speech from you…well that just makes me sick of myself." At this point Batgirl was trying to avoid his eyes, out of her own shame. "I know I should be better than this but I'm not. I'm as low as can be. You have more reason than me."

Red X was a little surprised by that little revelation. He wasn't expecting this.

"God, I am such a moron," she continued, "running around thinking I was doing a good thing while I'm actually no better than you… no offense."

"None taken."

"And here you are asking me to point you the right way while I myself have lost all sense of moral direction." She sighed exasperatingly. Batman was right. I can't take on Falcone alone. I never had the proper motivation."

"…Don't say that."

"Huh?"

"Don't look down on yourself like that. If you give up now, you'll never let yourself rest with it. One thing I've learned, even if it was through thievery, is that persistence, above everything else, is what really gets you the prize. Plus, God knows, even if you made this mistake, you're still an infinitely better person than some people." The way Red X said that, it seemed like he was referring to himself.

"I wish I could say that as casually as you. Truth is, now that things are the way they are, I have no Idea where to place my confidence."

"Don't worry about it. Falling down is easy. Finding your feet is what really counts."

"R-Right…"

"Besides, I still have to repay you for saving my life."

Batgirl smiled a bit at that. "You know something X? You're not such a bad guy…"

"…Once you get to know me."

"So I guess this makes this a done deal."

"Guess so. Shake on it?" Red X offered a hand.

Batgirl did not hesitate to take it. "Just out of curiosity, what exactly do you expect to get out of this once it's all over?"

"With any luck, a little peace of mind."

"And what will you do after that?"

"I'm thinking about taking a vacation. A long, long vacation"

"To put up your feet?"

"No, it was a promise I made."

"A promise?"

"I promised her she'd never loose me as long as I can help it."

"Oh… I see," Batgirl gave a wry smile.

Red X noticed. "Don't give me that…"

Batgirls couldn't help but slightly giggle. She supposed that under all that rough, hard-edged exterior, he was still human like the rest of them all. She believed that it was probably her own father that taught her a valuable lesson: Man can fight the world with all of his might and still come out victorious, but everyone looses to loneliness eventually. She wondered if her father taught that same lesson to a certain masked vigilante with an extra set of ears. God knows he needs to hear it.

They were distracted by what they heard to be a scream. A woman's scream to be exact, somewhere below on the streets. Batgirl immediately rushed to the edge of the building to scope it out, mostly out of habit. Red X followed suit at a slightly slower pace. Both of them sighted a woman carrying a little girl about the age of five or six. She was running. Looking behind her, the two teens on the roof found out why.

There was a group of six men running after her and her child. In there hands were some conspicuous little figurines. Without a moment's hesitation, Batgirl reached into her utility belt and took out her grappling hook. She was about to jump off after the group when she remembered her company. She looked to the side at Red X who was already looking at her.

"I have to go help them," she said plainly, "You can… stay here if you want."

Red X turned his head to look at her, not saying a word.

"I mean," continued Batgirl, "I know you don't like being the hero."

Red X lifted an arm and launched a grappling cable from his hand. "Doesn't mean I don't know how…" said Red X, plainly and coldly.

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On the street.

Running for her life and the life of the child in her arms, the woman was loosing energy quite hurriedly. Her pursuers on the other hand looked like they could run three marathons if they had to. It won't be long till they catch her and her child. As much as she knew that to be true, she kept of pushing anyway, cursing the fact that she chose to wear high-heeled sandals that night. Her feet were killing her.

She found that the street was getting darker and darker as she ran. She also noticed that the buildings seemed to loomed over her. Her child, to her credit, didn't whimper a sound throughout the whole time, either out of fear or out of hopelessness.

Soon they both found themselves at a dead end. The street she ran into was a short one and ended up at a brick wall. She tried to turn around and find another way. But it was too late by then as the six men that were chasing her had finally caught up and trapped her. She was absolutely helpless. She started backing away from them until her back was against the wall.

"The target has been acquired," slurred one of the men.

"Factors of escape are none," said another.

"Mission objective almost completed."

The woman began to sink lower in her place. The child in her arms took her head out of the safety of her chest. She saw all six men slowly coming closer to them and immediately buried her head back onto her mother's chest. The older woman tried her best to stay brave and did a fairly good job at it. The men were not intimidated however.

"Leave us alone!" she demanded.

One of the men, who were obviously high on something, carried what looked like a small statue of a woman with a crack at the side. He brought it up to his nose and snorted loudly. He set it back down to his side. "Target must not be allowed to give resistance."

"Acquire it now!" commanded one of the men.

In a flash, a couple of men rushed up to the tow ladies. One man grabbed onto the shoulders of the mother while the other forcedly yanked the child from her arms. No matter how much either protested, and they protested loudly, the men were relentless in separating the two. Soon, the mother and the child were too far from each other's reach.

"Pick on someone your own species, you jerk!"

Batgirl came swinging down on her grappling cable and struck down the man that was holding the older woman. Batgirl's knee went straight into the small of the man's back forcing him to fall to the ground and let go of the woman at the same time. The woman stumbled forward and landed on the ground. Te man that was holding her was already getting up when Batgirl delivered a swift chop to the back of the neck, stunning the man.

The rest of the men were still in a little bit of shock and have yet to recover. Batgirl took this opportunity to strike at her other objective. She pulled out a blunt-edge batarang and threw it towards the forehead of the man who was holding the young girl. The man stumbled back then fell unconscious from the impact and let the girl drop from his grip. The girl immediately ran to her other and they both got behind Batgirl.

Batgirl stood her ground as the remaining four men closed in on the three of them.

"A complication to the mission," said one of them. "We must find a means to negotiate this--"

The man was cut short in his speech as he suddenly felt something tugging the back of his shirt. The two men in the center of the group suddenly found themselves being pulled back suddenly then being forced to the ground. Both men stumbled back and fell to the ground as Red X pulled them there by their collars. They were momentarily stunned from the fall.

Rd X wasted no time in hopping over their fallen forms and engaged the two men still standing. Both men turned around to acknowledge the presence of the crimson thief but they did it a little too late. Red X reached out to one of the men to his side and grabbed him by the shoulders. Forcing the man to go down, Red X brought up a powerful knee to the man's chest. The man screamed in agony as he felt three or four of his ribs snap.

Red X finished him off be swiftly delivering an uppercut to the man's chin which sent him flying up into the air then back down onto the ground, unconscious. The other man that was standing had just recovered from the slight shock of Red X's appearance and started to charge with a fist. Red X predicted as much and grabbed the man's wrist in mid-charge. He then twisted it, causing a scream in pain.

While keeping hold of the outstretched arm, Red X shot an open palm at the man's face, braking the nose and dislocation the jaw. Red X finished him off by grabbing the side of his neck and forcedly throwing him to the ground, completely knocked-out. By then, red X had turned to notice that the two men whom he initially brought down were now recovering, one quicker than the other.

Red X Moved to the one who was getting up faster. As soon as the man was up, he prepared to throw a punch. Red X beat him to it by throwing a lightning-quick fist to the stomach. The man bent over in absolute agony. Red X then grabbed onto the man's neck, lifted the man off the ground, and finally slammed him to the ground hard on his back. The man was knocked out instantly as a few disks in his spine slipped out.

The last guy to recover started having second thoughts about taking on the caped thief. That slight bit of hesitation was all that Red X needed as he closed the distance between them and made a grab for the guy's collar. Red X, using all his might, flipped the man over his shoulder and down on the ground on the flat of his back. Red X followed up by lifting a foot and dropping it down right onto the man's chest, knocking the wind out of him.

By then, it was over. All of the men were pretty much out of commission. Red X turned to the three women near the brick wall. Batgirl was staring at him with a large sweat drop on the side of her face. The mother and child were staring blankly, not knowing whether to thank him or beg for mercy. Batgirl relaxed her stance and seemed to be searching for some words to say.

"Um…nice work," said Batgirl.

"Thanks," said Red X. He then turned his sights to the two ladies behind Batgirl. "You two alright?" he asked plainly.

They both nodded in response which seemed enough to satisfy Red X. "You should leave now."

The mother picked up her daughter and briskly walked off. She stopped at one point to turn to both Red X and Batgirl and said a sincere "Thank you" to each of them. Batgirl nodded with a smile while Red X offered no response whatsoever. The woman and her child eventually left, moving on to safer territories. Batgirl then turned to her unofficial partner.

"So what now?" she asked.

"We have work to do," he said.

Batgirl nodded and they both walked off into the night. Red X briefly looked back behind his shoulder, thinking he noticed something. He saw nothing and shrugged it off to the night chill. As the two teens disappeared, all was quiet once again.

A long moment of silence passed.

Silencer finally stepped out of the shadowy hiding place from which he watched the entire ordeal go down. He continued to stare off in the direction the two costumed teens went off to. He then moved passed the bodies of the fallen junkies who were still unconscious. Though he did not smile, he couldn't even if he wanted to, he was satisfied. Good, he thought, very good indeed.

His mission was to eliminate those two. And he could have done it no more than five minutes ago. But he didn't. He didn't want to. It would have ruined his plan which is, as far as he is concerned, going exceptionally well. Those two were stronger than he had anticipated. They would do well for his purposes. Just a little more time, he thought, a little more patience. They had already gotten rid of bob for him and they will bring down Falcone yet.

Seemingly unaware, Silencer stood still as one of the men was slowly and silently getting up. The man saw the figure of Silencer in the pale light of the moon. He acted on instinct and began to charge at the well-dressed stranger. It was a mistake; a big mistake and also his last.

A flash of silver and suddenly there was a silver blade jabbed straight at the man's throat. Silencer had driven the knife up the man's throat without looking back and in the same amount of time a bee would beat its wing once. Silencer held that pose for a short moment before pulling out the blade and letting the man's corpse fall to the ground.

Silencer reached into his pockets with his other hand and pulled out a piece of cloth. He then started to slowly, almost caringly, wipe the blood off the blade of his antique dagger. He polished it to a mirror sheen and looked into it. On the blade, he looked straight into his own pale and empty eyes. He pocketed the cloth away and sheathed the dagger underneath his suit.

Silencer adjusted his hat and walked off into the night, leaving a cold trail with every step he took.

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Author's note: Had a nasty cold the other day which slowed down the writing process a bit. But I'm okay now so sorry for the slight delay. So now you guys know what Batgirl is doing in Jump City and what her initial motivation is. Also, a little more light is shed on Silencer. Things should get a little more interesting from this point on. As usual, please R&R! See you next time.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or anything related to them.

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Jump City bay, about a third of a mile off-shore.

A lonely yacht is anchored in the middle of the steady and quiet waters that line the Jump City coastal area. It was a pretty big yacht, looking more like an ocean liner than a private boat. Aside from its rather massive scale for its class, there was nothing overly conspicuous about the ship. But if that's what you think, then you're probably not looking close enough.

Visible only to the sharpest eyes, several bodies were moving about slowly, almost casually, back and forth through the many outside decks of the ship. They all looked to be well-dressed men wearing shades. They seemed to be patrolling the decks, keeping ever keen eyes on the water in every direction. A closer look at their attire and one might be able to spot the submachine guns hidden under their coats.

From the patrolling guards' point of view, the city was a magnificent sight to behold as its towering buildings are ablaze with florescent light. But beautiful views were the last thing on the guards' minds. Things have been rather hectic lately with several of the established factories producing the super hallucinogenic drug, Venus, have been destroyed by certain masked individuals. Those that remained soon fell to authorities led buy anonymous tips.

All in all, business for Falcone was dropping and dropping hard. All of his current assets are just about spent and all his future investments no longer have a stable basis. Plus, his three greatest assets seemed to have been lost to him. Bruno, his personal assistant, never came back from his assignment at the hotel and rumors persist that he skipped town. Bob, his undercover contact in the police force, is apparently, as his predecessors liked to put it, sleeping with the fishes. Silencer, his ever trustworthy lapdog, has been out of contact for over a week.

It was understandable that he was frustrated, so much so that the whole ocean can probably hear his overly loud rants from the inside of his private room in the yacht. Outside the door, a very nervous lackey of Falcone was debating to himself whether opening the door was the healthiest thing for him to do. Falcone gave him a direct order some time ago and he was only complying. But he knew that Falcone was not gonna like what he was about to report.

He slowly, cautiously, like a mouse peeping out of its hole, opened the door to Falcone's private room. Falcone didn't notice the man enter as he was distracted by his own voice as it resonated throughout the walls. The lackey weighted his options and almost considered just running out before his boss noticed hi, Unfortunately for the lackey, Falcone did notice him just as his hand was reaching for the door knob. He stood at attention, forcing the drops of sweat on his face to move back into their pores.

"M-M-M-Mr. Falcone, sir…" he said to Falcone, fear evident.

"What?" replied Falcone, his tone piercing at the man's chest.

"I-I have t-t-the reports you asked for… about our factories in the eastern district."

"And…?"

The lackey swallowed and unconsciously turned his eyes away. "The police have seized it and have taken all of the men their into custody. Also, a message arrived from the Cubans. They say their pulling back and…"

The lackey looked up, just in time to see an aluminum ashtray fly towards him. He ducked at the last second and the ashtray flew over his head and imbedded itself into the wood of the door. The lackey, sensing his presence more than unnecessary, decided to leave for his own sake. Falcone, just for the heck of it, grabbed another object from his desk, a digital alarm clock, and threw it at the door. It shattered to pieces upon impact. Frustrated beyond all reason, Falcone paced around the room at a maddening pace.

Getting to where he was in the underground world of organized crime was not easy, even for a man of his ancestry. But even that served him little. He never knew much about his father. Most of his childhood, all he knew was a large house in the suburbs of Opal City. All the care he ever knew came from the number of men who were apparently hired by his father to protect him.

He barely remembered his other, having only lived with her for five years before lung cancer finally claimed her. Ever since then, he's been living off of his father's funds which seemed to come at an endless supply. He was cared for by his own little army of bodyguards and he lived in a very nice house away from all the grime of the real world.

He never questioned any of it. He never wondered what his father did to earn such wealth and had so many men under his thumb. He couldn't care less about any of those things. All that mattered was that he had a life he genuinely thought was worth having. But then all of that came to a stop. His father's money stopped coming in. His bodyguards were slimming in number. Soon he was all alone with but a scant few remains of what he thought were his riches.

It was then that he learned what was his father's real job was and what happened to him. He learned that he was a major player in the mafia based in Gotham City. He learned about his arrest and his ugly end at the hands of Gotham's dark knight. And after learning all that, you'd think he'd be despaired. But he wasn't despaired. Instead, he was mad. Mad that the life he loved was lost. Mad that what he thought would be his future would never come to fruition. Mad for having everything he thought was his taken away.

He wanted all of it back. And he set out to do just that. With what little assets he had left and the few loose connections he had at his disposal, he started from the ground up and slowly started reconstructing the life he knew by any means necessary. Eventually he reached his peak when he hit on the revolutionary drug which named Venus. Everything was coming back. Everything was becoming his again the way it was supposed to.

And just when he thought it couldn't get any better, everything started slipping away from his fingers once more. He thought that Jump City was the perfect place to set up shop, due to its very flexible market. At first, that was true, business was never better. But complications came by the truckloads and they all fell on his lap. All because of some costumed punks

Falcone stopped pacing for a moment. He went to the liquor cabinet on the far wall. He opened cabinet and reached in but did not grab a single bottle or glass. He reached behind a bottle of red wine and pushed a hidden button. He stepped back and the entire cabinet slid to the side revealing a small compartment on the wall that was the height of a book shelf and just as deep. It was only big enough to store a very odd looking piece of equipment which what most people would assume to be some kind of gun.

Falcone stared at it for a while, deep in thought. If they were gonna take away everything from him, he thought, they weren't gonna do it without a fight.

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Meanwhile, on the shore.

Atop one of the many loading cranes, non-operational since the crew running it was retired for the night, which was present at the dock, Batgirl perched herself right near the edge of the long arm. She was looking through a small pair of binoculars out into the dark waters of the bay. In the distance, she spotted a very large yacht anchored off-shore. It was only a small image that she saw even through the powerful binoculars, due to the distance of the ship which was barely a bright speck in the dark.

Standing no more than three feet behind her, Red X stood on the crane arm as well. Overlooking the perched Batgirl, he squinted his eyes, trying to see anything in the ocean but was only barely able to see a small speck in the waters. He guessed that what he was looking at was Falcone's ship as it was told to them.

Following after their third meeting, Red X and Batgirl teamed up and went through the city for the next couple of nights, working together to sanitize it of Falcone's influence. In that short span of time, they manage to shut down a few more of Falcone's Venus producing factories as well as tip off the police on the location of the remaining few. By the time they were done, Falcone was practically out of business in Jump City.

Now, that all the other pieces have been dealt with it was time to put the king of the whole debacle into a check-mate. They managed to find enough information to know tat Falcone had moved his headquarters to a private sea vessel but didn't learn anything else after that. Eventually, Red X managed to figure out exactly which private sea vessel Falcone was using. His detective skills, to Batgirl's surprise and admiration, were comparable to that of even the boy wonder.

Red X reached out a hand to Batgirl. "Hand me those batnoculars."

Batgirl turned around and stared curiously at Red X, "…you mean my binoculars?"

"Yeah… your _batnoculars_..."

Batgirl gave Red X an annoyed look as she handed him her binoculars. "You know, just because I wear my name doesn't mean I put a "bat" prefix on all my stuff."

"Really? I would have thought otherwise."

Red X put the binoculars up to his masked eyes and looked towards the direction of the ship. He was able to see it a bit clearer and was able to gauge its size. It was bigger than he thought it would be. In the back of his mind, he wondered how much money Falcone must've made through his business to buy something that big and keep it under everyone's noses. He was genuinely afraid of the answer. He only got a short glimpse of what Venus can really do. He'd hate to think what it can do on such a scale.

"By the way," asked Batgirl all off the sudden, "how did you know that Falcone was on that particular ship."

Red X continued to look through the binoculars as he answered her. "Coincidentally, the name of that boat is _Aphrodite_."

"…Ah…"

"I can't really tell from this distance, but there's probably a bunch of armed guys out patrolling the decks. We'll have to find a way to sneak past them."

"Can we distract them or something?"

"I can think of something. But…"

"But what?"

Red X handed the binoculars back to Batgirl and she tucked them into her utility belt. "We'll first need to cross the water somehow."

Batgirl stood up straight to face Red X more directly. "How do we do that?"

"I was hoping you brought a _bat-boat_ or something."

Another annoyed look from Batgirl. "I told you to cut that out! And for you information: it's called the hydro-bat. And no, I don't have it with me."

"The big guy doesn't let you drive, huh?"

"Barely let's me sidekick… That's not the point. Is there a way for us to get on-board?"

"We'll just…borrow a boat from one of the docks. All I need is a lock pick to hotwire the thing. That okay with you?"

"I guess if we have no choice."

"Great," he said as he turned around to walk towards the other end of the arm, supposedly to climb down. "You wouldn't happen to have a _bat-pick kit_ on you, would you?"

Batgirl son followed, slightly fuming. "I ought to _bat-pick_ your eyes out…"

Red X quietly chuckled to himself as he reached the crane's main shaft and began climbing down. He looked out towards the ocean in the direction of their intended target on their way down. He found himself suddenly thinking about something that happened earlier ion the day. He remembered it clearly, his last meeting with Tara before setting out to finish his mission against Falcone.

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Earlier that day.

A nice summer day in Jump City if there was ever. The sun was shining down on a fairly uneventful afternoon. As usual, people were about on there daily business. In a local café, a familiar couple sat at an outdoor table drinking some iced lattes and eating a generous slice of cake for each. Nick and Tara were both wearing casual attire as most teens would wear on casual days like this when they are simply able to enjoy the long free days of summer.

"So…" started Tara, "what are you up to tonight?"

Nick looked up from his iced latte that he was sipping through a drinking straw. "Um… well, you might not really want to know."

"Oh, yes I do." Tara's expression showed that she wasn't requesting for an answer, she was demanding it. Nick had little choice as he simply could not argue with her look.

"Well, I finally got a good lead on where Falcone is. His exact location and everything. With it, Falcone can finally get what's coming to him."

"You know, you could just call the cops."

"I did. They swept the city for the rest of that nut's hidden factories."

"Then why can't you just tell them where Falcone is and let them take care of it?"

"It's not that simple anymore. From wear Falcone is standing, it's unlikely that cops will be able to touch him for certain. I need to make sure he's crippled first before the police have any realistic chance of getting to him. I can't send any cops after him yet. If there's anyone to take down Falcone, it'll have to be someone…less conspicuous."

"I see. I guess that makes sense." Tara let out a long, exasperating sigh. Something Nick immediately picked up on.

"You… worried about me?"

Tara shot him a despondent look. "What do you think?"

"I'm sorry…but I have to do this. But don't worry, it's not like I'm still stuck in the past or anything like that. I am moving on, I swear."

"I know. I believe you on that. And…I understand that you have to do this."

"I don't think you do, otherwise you wouldn't be so worried about me."

"I am worried about you, Nick. But it's not because I don't understand your reasons for doing this. I'm worried about you because I care about you, that's all there is to it. But since I understand you…I really do…I can't do a damn thing to stop you, no matter how hard I try."

Nick raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He wanted to press the matter a bit more but noticed that Tara was gathering her thoughts for a bit. He decided to wait until she made up her mind while searching his own for a reason to why Tara might say something like that.

Tara took a sip of her iced latte and a small bite out of her cake slice. She fiddle around with her long blonde hair as if arranging it would help arrange the thoughts in her head. Eventually, she took a deep breath and seemed satisfied with what she was about to say. Nick made sure to listen intently.

"I don't know if this'll make sense or not," she started, "but the thing is, I feel as though I went through a similar situation once."

Nick gave a slightly confused look. "W-What do you mean?"

"Somehow I know what your going through, Nick. I somehow know that feeling when there's something that has to be done and you know, deep in your gut, that you're the only one to do it. You don't really know why you're doing it at first, since at first it seems to be the most illogical thing to do. You know you won't gain any personal benefit from it and chances are you're only gonna get really hurt in the process of doing it. But you end up doing it anyway simply because…you know it's the right thing to do."

"…Sounds like you understand it more than I do. How that's possible, I'll never know."

"Neither will I but I think we both get the point. You have to do what you have to do. I don't have to like it but I know I can't stop you."

"Don't worry so much though. I've been through much worse than this."

Tara gave an approving nod. Knowing she cannot stop him still caused her to worry a great deal. She'll just have to cope with it, she told herself. After it was over, everything should fall into place and they could all go on with their lives, Nick especially. All this time he was cooped up in his father's memory. He needed this more than anyone.

"By the way," said Tara, "what are you gonna do after this is over?"

Nick swallowed the piece of cake that he was chewing. "What do you mean by that?"

"Are you gonna…" Tara hesitated for a moment, looking around them to make sure nobody was in hearing distance. "Are you gonna…you know… quit being the Red X?"

Nick was sipping his latte when he suddenly choked on it a bit as he was taken off-guard by the question. Nick coughed a bit and set his drink and scanned Tara's face. She seemed to have meant that question with the utmost seriousness. She was patiently waiting for an answer while Nick was desperately trying to find one.

Quit being the Red X? Actually, the thought has been occasionally running through his mind ever since that fateful encounter they had a few nights ago. The fact that Tara now knows his secret would mean that she is now almost directly involved in anything the concerns the Red X and this had lead Nick to make considerations on a number of options.

Surely it was plausible. Red X, in Nick's eyes, was really nothing more than a cheap thrill for him. It brought him relief from stress and much needed excitement to spice up his otherwise mundane lifestyle. The way he saw it, he and the Red X suit was no different from a kid with his favorite toy. And, just like that kid with his favorite toy, he knew that someday he'll eventually outgrow it and find something more worthwhile. He was simultaneously debating whether he had already found something worthwhile.

Still, something inside his gut was telling him not to give up the Red X just yet. He couldn't tell where the feeling was coming from or what reasons would there be for that feeling to be there. But he could tell that it was strong.

Over the moths that have past since he obtained the suit, he had grown more and more attached to the suit before he even knew it. Soon enough, Red X became everything that Nick Davenport held back in the real world. The Red X was his wants, his yearnings, his trapped desires for unbridled freedom. He's been taught since the cradle that all of life was just a long struggle to gain our deepest desires. He found and escape through the Red X and questioned whether he would really give it up so easily.

"Well…" he said, slightly hesitating, "I have considered it, actually. But…maybe…I don't think it'll be that easy for me to just hang up the suit like that."

Tara looked mildly disappointed but seemed to genuinely understand Nick's incentive on keeping the suit.

"But, I'm not saying I'll be the Red X forever. I know now that somewhere along the line I will eventually give up the suit for other things."

"How do you figure that?"

Nick took a sip out of his latte and a bit out of his cake. In his mind he tried to find the best words for his answer. He seemed to have arrived at an answer that he was confident in and looked at Tara's soft blue eyes.

"Let's just say that…I've learned that some treasures are worth keeping more that others are worth stealing."

After a short moment of silence, Tara smiled for the both of them.

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Atop the massive yacht.

The top most deck of the yacht was the only place that was unguarded and unlit. The security felt as though that if here was any incoming threat, it wouldn't come from above so most of the guards were positioned in the lower decks overlooking the water from the side. Mostly, that concept was true. But there was something akin to a threat standing stoically on the upper deck.

Silencer was standing in the middle of the hardwood covered deck, polishing his precious dagger as he always did when he had idle time. Around him, the outdoor furniture went unused as Silencer felt no need to sit down. The door leading to the upper deck was locked by security so he knew that no one was coming up to see him. That was fine. Had anyone did come up to meet him he would have had to kill them. He didn't want anyone to know he was there, not yet at least.

It was almost over, he told himself. Al that was left was to wait for those two to come and clean house. Falcone was as good as hung by then. Then he'll step in to collect the leftovers and then he'll finally be free. Falcone has had this coming to him a long time ago.

Silencer knew about himself that he was far from normal. His abilities, history and handicaps made him an outcast of society. He knew he was a monster that the people were afraid of and so he couldn't find a home anywhere. During his earlier years, he was so desperate for recognition, from others and himself, he was willing to sell all of his being to the highest bidder. That happened to be Falcone not too long ago.

Ever since he started working for the man, Silencer has been nothing but a pawn for Falcone to push around. Back then, he believed the same thing letting him be used for anything Falcone can think of. But that was all about to change. He saw the light some time ago just as the organization set itself up in Jump City and since then has been plotting against the mob boss and his organization.

He could have done this sooner. He could have just walked up to Falcone and drive a blade down his throat but he didn't. He decided to wait. What he was waiting for came to him in the form of the caped crime fighter Batgirl and the crimson thief of the night Red X. Falcone had ordered him to take out both of them but he didn't. He knew they were just the type to try and destroy all that his boss built in the city.

That's why he didn't stop them. He wanted them to continue, to succeed. So that he can watch Falcone squirm and struggle like the little helpless child he pretends not to be anymore. As soon as he saw the light, he also saw what Falcone truly was. That little spoiled brat that survived off of his father's gifts never left and never changed. Silencer knew that that would be Falcone's inevitable downfall.

Silencer tilted his head slightly in the direction of the ship's stern. It was a quiet noise, barely audible that a regular person would never have noticed it. That noise then stopped and was followed by something that sounded like a groan then finally the quiet pitter patter of feet. Silencer walked to the edge of deck he was on and looked out, confident that the darkness around him would hide his presence.

On the yacht's stern, there was a boarding platform where boats can dock with and people to board on. It was lit and Silencer could clearly see that the two guards that were at one point standing vigilant were now flat on their stomachs and unconscious. Their weapons were lying next to them and looked to have been disassembled in a hurry. Lastly, there was a small inflatable raft tied to the boarding platform.

Silencer already knew what was happening. He would have grinned if he was able to. But he simply couldn't just let them storm the place. Falcone might be taken in sooner than he'd hoped. So he decided that he'll just have to delay them for a bit.

Silencer turned around and headed for the door to the inside. He picked the lock easily enough with his dagger and casually entered the interior decks, ready to have some fun.

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Aboard the ship's middle decks.

Gunfire erupted from one of the many corridors of the ship. Inside the saloon where five guards were lounging heard the shots just outside the door. They all craned their heads and reached for their weapons, which were HK MP5's. Suddenly, as soon as the shooting started, it stopped abruptly. The nervously waited for something to happen.

The double doors to the saloon burst open from the outside as two guards flew into the saloon and crashed into the tables and chairs, catching the guards that were already inside the saloon by surprise. That little bit of distraction was enough for a certain Red X to burst in and toss a bunch of smoke bombs which exploded in the guards' faces.

The shut their eyes as the gas stung them and they started to cough violently. That's when Batgirl came bursting in to the room with multiple batarangs already in hand. She threw them expertly so that they flew threw the air and hit the MP5's from the guards' wrists. She didn't miss and soon all the guards in the room were completely disarmed. Red X waited for the gas to dissipate just enough so that he could see if the guards were now without weapons. As soon as he confirmed that little fact he charged in and was soon followed by Batgirl.

Red X rushed towards the bar where one guard was behind the counter and another two were seated on stools. The closest guard to Red X was just recovering his eye sight and saw Red X rushing at him then jumping into a flying kick. The guard immediately threw himself off the stool and onto the floor. Red X ended up flying over him and hitting the guard behind the first one instead. Red X, through luck, managed to nail the guy in the face and knocked him out cold and the guard hit the floor.

The first guard, the one Red X was originally targeting, was just getting up and pulling a small pistol from his coat that he was keeping as a spare weapon. Red X saw it coming and quickly grabbed the mug of beer that the guard was drinking, prior to their entry, from the counter and trew it hard towards te guards face. It shattered on impact and the unfortunate guard dropped his gun and stumbled back a bit.

Red X rushed in on the man and kneed him on the chest, causing him to bend over in pain. Red X the grabbed the back of his coat and threw the man to the bar where he hit his head and passed out instantly. The third guard which was behind the counter had just recovered at that point and retrieved a shotgun from under the bar.

The guard tried aiming it at Red X but the thief had already grabbed the other end of the barrel and suddenly yanked both the shotgun and the guard holding onto it, over the counter and down on the floor. Red X immediately brought a foot down on the guard's stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Meanwhile, Batgirl was busying herself with the two remaining guards in the room. The first one she came across, she sweep kicked and brought to the ground swiftly. She cart wheeled over the first one and came face to face with the second guard, right behind the first. He took a swing at her and missed as she ducked. She came back up with a strong uppercut and probably dislocated his jaw in the process. The second guard fell to the ground, unconscious.

The first guard she encountered was slowly getting back up on his feet. She anticipated this and was already turning around in a wild roundhouse kick that nailed the guard squarely on the chin. The guard was probably seeing birds fly around his head as he fell face first onto the floor, completely knocked out.

Both costumed teen stood victoriously. Then they heard the sound of rushing feet from another door. Thre more guards rushed in brandishing guns from another set of double doors on the other side of the saloon. Batgirl was the first to act by reaching in to her utility belt and throwing a set of batarangs that knocked out the guards' munitions from their hands.

Red X followed up swiftly by rapidly shooting x-tasers that gave the guards the shock of their lives as the glowing projectiles impacted them. They all fell to the ground completely stunned. Once again Batgirl and Red X were the only ones standing.

"Good work," said Batgirl.

"You too," replied Red X. "Now it's time to go after the big man."

"He should be somewhere in here. Probably in a private suite upstairs or something."

"You go ahead. I'll go down."

"Huh? Why?"

"I'm gonna go down to the engine room and shut it down. As soon as this thing is dead in the water, Falcone is finished. Plus, if I meet the guy face to face…I might not be able to restrain myself, if you know what I mean."

"Uh, right. I guess you have a point there."

"I'll catch up as soon as I can. I'll be counting on you till then."

Batgirl nodded enthusiastically and flashed a smile. "You can count on me!"

Red X gave an approving nod then pressed a finger on his belt buckle. He disappeared instantly. Batgirl then proceeded to rush out the door, eager to complete her mission.

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Below deck.

Red X materialized in what would be the ship's engineering bay. As expected, it was dimly lit, damp, and unbelievably hot. Three second in the place and Red X could already feel sweat forming between the suit and his skin underneath. The suit was designed to automatically regulate temperature for the wearer so the atmosphere, to Red X at least, was made a little bit more bearable.

He shrugged off the annoyance of the heat and moved crossed the fairly wide floor space of the dimly lit room. He looked around looking for anything to shut down the engine with. He briefly thought of just going wild and simply throw x-bombs all over the place to stop the engine. The logical part of his brain immediately told him that that would only serve to kill him and batgirl and everyone else aboard.

Red X knew only as much about engines as he learned from working on hi bike back home. But the difference between the bike's engine and the ship's was like the difference between a onion and chocolate cake. But he knew that all engines and motors worked through a network of gears and wheels. A wrench in the system, literal or otherwise, should suffice in stopping the whole thing.

Looking hard, Red X spotted something that looked like a maintenance hatch. He could probably mess with the internal working through there. He slowly approached it but as he neared it a chill unexpectedly ran down his spine. Red X instantly felt cold all of a sudden, as if the blood was drained out of his body. He turned around slowly and then he saw _him_.

Standing only a dozen feet from Red X, in the middle of the room stood the Silencer, staring coldly back at Red X with empty gray eyes.

Red X was at a loss for words as he tried to mutter a question "…Who the…?"

Red X never finished his inquiry as Silencer suddenly produced a dagger in his hand and swiftly closed the distance between them.

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	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: The Teen Titans don't belong to me so live wit it.

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In the inner decks of the yacht.

Batgirl was standing over two more knocked out guards that attempted to subdue her but obviously failed. A third one was still standing, though not entirely on his own. He had a black eye and a bleeding nose to show that he didn't fair any better than his comrades. This is highlighted by the fact that Batgirl had him by the collar and was pressing him up against the bulkhead. Batgirl, in the meantime, was, as Red X referred to it once, negotiating for information.

"Tell me where Falcone is," she demanded, "or I'll punch you're teeth in so hard it'll wake up your dentist!"

Struggling for breath, the guard had little strength to struggle for anything else and politely answered while pointing a weary finger down the corridor where it ended in a large set of double doors. "He's down the hall…in the main suite…"

"Thanks," said Batgirl right before kneeing him in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him. Batgirl let go of his collar and he went limp and was on the floor instantly. Batgirl casually dusted her hands and let out a sigh of relief. "Now for the finale to begin," she said.

She moved swiftly yet cautiously, down the corridor where the guard had directed her. The large double doors would certainly indicate that whatever room was inside was meant for whoever ran this ship. Sure enough, there was only one possible person who could be in there. Batgirl moved with a certain aura of determination that showed her absolute dedication to ending this entire mess once and for all.

She reached the doors, grabbed one of the knobs, and turns it slowly. She pressed her other hand up against the door and gently pushed it open, keeping her body flat against the door as well as keeping a slightly low profile. She met no resistance with the door and slowly peered with her head out the side to get a look at the room. It was everything she expected it to be: big and lavish. Sensing no immediate danger, she walked inside.

Walking inside, she got a better look at her surroundings. The floor was hardwood and polished. The walls were padded with fabric. On her left was a sort of lounge area, with a liquor cabinet containing what looked like fine wines behind a couch set with a glass coffee table with a chess board on top, and a foosball table on the far end. On her right there was a large flat screen TV facing the couch set, and a fancy stereo system beside it. In the center of the room was a large bearskin rug and on the far end was a working desk with a large oil painting depicting the Greek gods in the battle of Troy.

Seated behind the desk was a slightly surprised-looking Adrian Falcone, dressed to impress with his elegant three-piece suit and finely groomed features. Batgirl narrowed her eyes as she stared back at his cold glare.

"Adrian Falcone," she started, I'm taking you in."

"Tsh! This is what I get?" he said suddenly, "I was expecting that so-called thief, not some little girl in bat pajamas."

Batgirl was noticeably insulted as a vein popped on her head. "What! Oh, I am so gonna make you eat those words. Face it pal; it's over for you."

"And how do you figure that, little girl?"

"All you're factories are busted in and all your partners have pulled out on their deals with you. You're practically dead in the water. Give up now and maybe the authorities will go easy on you."

"You insolent little brat!" exclaimed Falcone, suddenly bursting to his feet with a strange looking weapon the he had just grabbed from underneath the desk. Batgirl, upon seeing the weapon as it was slowly aimed at her, went into a tense stance.

Batgirl eyed the weapon carefully. It wasn't standard issue, that was for sure, but she knew what it was. It was experimental weapon nicknamed "the slug cannon." It was basically a large semiautomatic rifle with a 50-round drum magazine specially designed to fire experimental slugs. These slugs were twice the size of the standard 7.62 mm NATO rounds and had low-explosive tips.

The slug cannon something that was currently being beta tested by the military. The weapon was initially designed to specialize in neutralizing light-armored vehicles. This was the military's answer to growing terrorist factions around the world who preferred light jeeps and civilian-class vehicles as their transport in the field. He weapon was proving successful on the field, but costs prevented the military from mass producing the rifle and limited its use to Special Forces only. How Falcone could possibly get his hands on one of these was beyond Batgirl at the moment.

"You think this is over for me?" exclaimed Falcone. "You have no idea what I'm capable of! I built this organization from scratch. I was the genius who discovered the potential of Venus on the streets. I built all of this! And if you think a couple of costumed brats could bring me down so easily, you're wrong! I can rebuild whatever you bring down. I won't be done until every city in this country will know my name! You and your friend are nothing but pests!"

With keen eyes, Batgirl saw the slightest movement in Falcone's hand as his index finger slipped into the trigger guard and applied pressure to the trigger. Batgirl had enough experience under her belt so that her instincts were finely tuned to react to such stimuli instantaneously. She dove to her right as Falcone pulled the trigger all the way back and fired a slug at where Batgirl was standing.

The slug impacted the hardwood floor and exploded like a firecracker creating a fairly big hole in the floor.. Batgirl ended up crouched next to the large flat screen TV. Falcone was in a small struggle to restore his aim. One major disadvantage to the slug cannon is that its immense recoil made unable to gain rapid fire capability and forced the user to re-aim after every shot.

Falcone just about got his aim right when Batgirl grabbed the side of the TV and swung it forward away from the wall so that t was covering her. Falcone fired a slug and it impacted with the TV, causing it to explode violently in a hail of broken plastic and glass. Batgirl was thrown back by the explosion and she hit the back wall of the room. Falcon again took some to get back his aim. That was just about enough time for Batgirl to react.

She quickly reached into her utility belt and produced a batarang. She took precise aim just as Falcone was doing the same. She threw her batarang at his direction but was not really expecting it to hit the man. Rather, the bat-shaped projectile perfectly intercepted the next slug's flight path and when Falcone actually fired the slug and the batarang impacted in mid-air in the middle of the room.

Falcone was slightly blinded by the resulting blast, leaving him off-guard for a moment. It that moment, Batgirl got back up to her feet and quickly closed the gap between her and the mobster. In less than two seconds, Batgirl has managed to get with in five feet of the work desk of Falcone. The mobster noticed the sudden closeness of his adversary and took a snapshot with his slug cannon. Batgirl anticipated this early and expertly dodged to the side.

She flipped over the desk on one arm and swipe kicked the slug cannon form Falcone's hands. The weapon went flying to the corner of the room, away from the mobster's reach. Batgirl landed on a crouch at the table. Falcone took a swing at her and she expertly blocked it with both arms. At that moment, Falcone used his other hand to grab onto her leg and pull on it hard. Batgirl ended up flat on top of the table all of a sudden.

Falcone immediately ran for his fallen weapon. Batgirl wasn't about to allow him that so she acted quickly by grabbing his desk chair and shoved it his way. The chair managed to nail Falcone right on the ankles and he tripped and fell. Batgirl got back into a crouch on top of the desk and leapt off over Falcone to where the slug cannon was and kicked to the center of the room.

Falcone was just getting up and getting something from under his coat. He pulled out a switchblade, the same as what all his men carried, and thrust it at Batgirl's back with a war cry. She heard it and instinctively dodged to one side without really knowing what was coming at her. Falcone missed her by inches but managed to rip part of her cape with his blade.

Batgirl did a one-eighty and faced Falcone fully again and delivered a swift kick to his stomach area. This cause Falcone to drop his switchblade and bend over in pain. Batgirl, taking advantage of this vulnerable position, immediately maneuvered to put Falcone in a headlock and press him up against the wall.

"Face it, pal!" she said to him. "It's so over for you right now!"

Falcone struggled to free part of his face from the wall. "Y-You cannot stop me like this! I will get back everything! You hear me? I built all of this from nothing and I can do it again!"

"Cut the crap, pal, you didn't build anything! I've read up on you, you know. You had plenty of stuff to build with back in the day. You didn't build this from the ground up. Heck, it was already here and all you did was whined your way in."

"Shut up, you wench!"

"All you had to do was wear the name of your father. It was no big deal for you to take over. And you know as well as I do that once this is over, there will be nothing left for you."

"I said shut up!"

"You're nothing but a spoiled rotten brat who can't live without Daddy's help!"

"You little bitch!"

Falcone pushed off the wall with his feet and forced both of them to stumble back. Batgirl backed-up right up to the desk and the edge of the desk hit the base of her spine causing a spark of pain to run up her back and caused her to let go of Falcone. Falcone took this most opportune moment to elbow her in the stomach to momentarily knock the wind out of her.

As Batgirl lay recovering, Falcone rushed to the center of the room and picked up the slug cannon he had lost earlier. He was making sure it was cocked and loaded as Batgirl was just getting back up to her feet. She quickly noticed that he was now preparing his aim at her. Again, she watched for signs from his hands and tensed up her body.

Falcone pulled the trigger and Batgirl jumped to the side to avoid turning to mush. The slug hit the desk and exploded it into splinters. Falcone did not stick around or long and ran for the door out of the room. Batgirl quickly got up and tried to throw a bolo from her utility belt at the fleeing mobster but by the time the bolo reached the doors, Falcone had already slipped outside and the bolo caught nothing.

Not one to give up so easily, Batgirl made a dash for the door. "No way am I letting you get away, you bastard!"

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Down below.

Silencer's dagger rang through the air as he swung it within inches of Red X figure. The skull-masked thief managed well for the moment as he was able to dodge incoming slashes with considerable effort. Although he managed to evade he blade and avoided any bodily harm to his person, Red X knew that he was loosing. Defense wasn't the only aspect in battle. If he had any chance of winning, he had to go on the offensive somehow.

An opportunity for Red X showed itself soon enough. Silencer swung high and Red X naturally ducked low. While in that low crouching position, Red X threw a foot out towards Silencer's legs. Silencer was faster than that however and quickly hopped back to avoid the attack. He landed about ten feet from the crimson thief.

Red X wasn't expecting that but was nonetheless grateful that the moved did manage to put some distance between the two fighters. Red X sprung back up to a tall standing position and immediately threw a bunch of x-shuriken towards Silencer. Silencer didn't look the least bit worried. He wouldn't look worried even if he able to look worried.

Silencer gripped his dagger tightly and watched with keen eyes as the multiple x-shuriken got progressively closer. In the time it takes for an average person to blink his eye, Silencer swung his dagger wildly and, spectacularly, was able to slash at all the incoming projectiles. Pieces of the many x-shuriken fell all over the floor.

Red X went wide-eyed. "No way…" he mumbled under his breath.

He underestimated this opponent; a mistake he knew all too well can lead to one's demise on the battle field. Red X got into a ready stance as best he could while his opponent simply stood there looking casual. Silencer lifted his head slightly to get a better look at the crimson thief. Red X could see his empty gray eyes and felt as if they were stabbing at his soul.

Without warning, Silencer lunged at Red X, dagger held high. Red X reacted by unleashing an x-blade on each hand. As Silencer came swinging down, Red X crossed his own synthetic xenothium blades and blocked the dagger with a loud "clang" sound before it could cut any part of him. Red X held his own for a moment before Silencer began pushing down.

The man's strength was incredible, thought Red X. Silencer seemed to be barely putting any effort into it and Red X was visibly struggling with the pressure. The blade slowly lowered to Red X's face. Red x knew he had to get out of this situation somehow and made a desperate move. Red X looked down to his enemy's lower region and quickly sent a foot flying up Silencer's crotch.

The impact was enough to bend an iron bar, but Silencer didn't even so much as cringed. Silencer took a moment to look down at where Red X's foot hit him for a few seconds and looked back up into Red X once again. A large drop of sweat ran down the crimson thief's face

"You've gotta be kidding me…" he mumbled.

Suddenly, Silencer released the pressure he as putting on Red X and pulled back his dagger. Red X wasn't expecting that and the force he was applying to block the blade had nowhere to go and the thief helplessly stumbled forward. Red X managed to stabilize himself and regain proper footing. Before even turning around, Red X could already sense the assassin coming at him from behind.

Immediately, Red X reached to his belt and pressed the center buckle. As Silencer approached fast, the thief suddenly disappeared into thin air. This forced Silencer to stop in is tracks momentarily. The assassin stood still keeping keen eyes and ears at his surroundings. A few seconds of silence passed then Red X suddenly reappeared, right behind Silencer, swinging his x-bladed hand.

Silencer was quicker than that and spun around fast enough that he blocked Red X's attack with his own dagger. Red X swung with his other hand and Silencer took a quick step back to evade. Red X kept on charging and swinging away with his bladed hands while Silencer was forced to simply parry or block all the attempted strikes. But Silencer was not about to be bested just yet.

Red X thrust a bladed arm forward towards Silencer's chest area. Silencer anticipated the arm's path and grabbed at it by the wrist when the right moment came. Pulling on the arm, Silencer twisted the whole of Red X's body to one side then pulled the arm violently down towards the floor in another direction. The result was that Red X suddenly found himself stuck to the floor via his own hand which was nailed into the metal of the floor.

Red X looked up and saw Silencer about to thrust his dagger downwards. All the thief could do was to twist his body to one side and let the dagger fall drive itself into the floor. Silencer found himself momentarily stuck to floor as well, then he let go of his weapon to free his hand. Red X was trying to free his hand when he noticed that Silencer was standing back up.

Silencer threw a jab at Red X who simply ducked as low as he could manage. He then sprung back up and kneed Silencer in the gut. Silencer was forced back a bit. Red X reeled his leg farther back and hit Silencer with all the power he could muster. Silencer was thrown all the way back and slammed into the bulkhead. Silencer looked to be momentarily stunned.

Red X then extended his open palm towards Silencer as he was still pressed against the bulkhead and shot an x. the x flew through the air and began to grow larger, The larger x taped Silencer to the bulkhead. Momentarily safe, Red X immediately struggled to yank his hand off of the floor. Red X started pulling using his other hand and tried to shake it loose. Slowly, it was yanked off the floor and Red X stood tall once again.

Meanwhile, Silencer was getting back his clarity and realized his situation. He reached for one of the four corners of the large x that was binding him into the wall. He grabbed at its sides and began to yank hard. Eventually, the adhesive strength of the corner failed and it sheared off the wall easily under Silencer's pull. He then proceeded to do the same with the other corners.

Red X shot even more of the entrapping x's towards Silencer and the bulkhead was almost completely covered in the sticky stuff. Red X thought himself a job well done and turned around, making his way to the maintenance hatch near the far end of the room. One little wrench in the works and he'd be done here. Then he heard snapping sounds.

In the blink of an eye, Red X did a complete one-eighty and watched with nervousness as the red bindings that were trapping his enemy began to suddenly rip apart. Within second the binds were no more. Silencer walked away from the wall and casually dusted himself off. He looked towards Red X, emotionless as ever, and then he looked down on the floor where his precious dagger was still embedded on the floor. Silencer moved nonchalantly towards his dagger and bent down to pick it up.

"Oh no, you don't!" exclaimed Red X as he shot a palm forward and shot an x-taser towards Silencer.

The sparking projectile traveled the distance between the two fighter is less than a third of a second but somehow, Silencer, in that time span, stood back up again and raised his arm to block the incoming projectile. The x-taser impacted and automatically coiled around Silencer's arm and started feeding high voltages into his system.

Red X watched as the x-taser did its thing and was both amazed and terrified that Silencer simply stood there and took it all with out so much as a flinch or a bat of the eye. Silencer moved his arm a bit to examine the device that was feeding large amounts of electricity into his body. The thing was spewing out red sparks like crazy and yet he truly felt nothing from it.

With his other hand, Silencer reached for the x-taser and pulled it off his arm. He dropped it onto the floor like a piece of trash and casually dusted his sleeve. Red X was wide-eyed in shock. Silencer bent down once again ad effortlessly yanked the ornate dagger form the metal floor. He polished it of on his coat then looked up at the wide-eyed Red X.

A few uncomfortable seconds passed as the two simply stared at each other. Silencer was as still as a statue as was Red X. Neither of the two made any attempt at an attack. Then, the eye slits on Red X's mask narrowed.

"Okay, tough guy," said Red X, "if you want like that…?"

The forward part of the blades on either of Red X's hands began to slow extend until both blade were a full three feet in length past Red X's knuckles. He got into a ready fighting stance.

"C'mon pal," he said in a little louder and more challenging tone, "come and get some…"

Silencer showed no emotional response but nonetheless accepted the invitation and charged towards the waiting crimson thief with dagger in hand.

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Upstairs.

The hallways were a lot more cramped than Falcone remembered or was that only a trick of his mind? Maybe it was the fact that he was running wildly or the fact that he carried his large weapon that was very much weighing him down. Or was it the fact that he knew that if he hesitated for one second and gave his pursuer a chance to catch him, he'll be as good as jailed. It didn't matter what it was, as long as there was motivation to run.

He was on a boat, so whether it felt like a long distance it really wasn't that long once he stopped and considered it. But, as already mentioned, he couldn't afford to stop. He ended up in the middle of the ship's saloon. There, he forced himself to stop, and examine the unconscious bodies of his guards strew on the floor. _Their_ work, no doubt.

He turned around and held his slug cannon by its pistol grip with one hand and aimed it at the door from which he entered the saloon. With the other hand, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a cell phone. He browsed quickly through the phone's call list and quickly selected a pre-programmed number. He pressed the thing against his ear andwaited nervously after three rings for someone to pick-up

When someone did pick up, Falcone didn't even give them a chance to say hello. "About damn time!" he practically screamed into the phone. "Listen, we've got a problem. I'm starting the evacuation plan right now. You understand that? Get to the _Aphrodite_ now!"

Something that sounded like a "yes, sir!" came from the other line then promptly hung up. Falcone pocketed away his phone. Now the only thing left to do was to hold the fort which was already crumbling like a wet cookie in his hands. He kept his slug cannon poised, now with both of his hands.

This wasn't over yet, not by a long shot.

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Somewhere on the docks.

A burly-looking thug pocketed away his cell phone then turned to the side where a whole bunch of other guys, some of whom were notably armed with assault rifles, were waiting on the guy that was just on the phone. Behind them, docked on the marina, were three very fast-looking speedboats.

"That was the boss," addressed the apparent leader of the group. "The contingency plan is a go. We need to move now!"

They all gave an obedient nod and began to untie their crafts from the marina and quickly hustled into their three speedboats. Each speed boat was fairly large and had enough room for about eight or nine people to fit in. There were a total of six men in all; two manned a single boat, one of whom carried a rifle. The armed man rode on the passenger seat while the unarmed man was on the wheel.

In mere seconds they were off from the marina and traveled in a close formation. They headed in a single direction towards a single brightly-lit entity in the middle of the dark ocean.

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Back onboard.

Falcone was still aiming at the door nervously with his slug cannon, finger primed on the trigger. It was only about half-a-minute since he made that call but to the mobster it felt like hours. Very long, anxious hours. Batgirl had yet to show up but if she would come from anywhere it would be through those doors.

As time slowed to a crawl, Falcone could distinctly hear footsteps from the other side of the door. He narrowed his eyes. Almost there. Sweat poured down from his face and his breathing went into hyperdrive. The footsteps came closer and stopped right at the edge of the door. A few seconds passed and nothing happened. And that was about all Falcone's nerves could take.

"Aaaaaggghhh!" he screamed as he began to fire indiscriminately all over the door.

The door was no match for the low-explosive slugs and instantly shattered into splinters. Falcone continued firing nonetheless. Some shots went through the door frame and exploded in the other side of the hall and others hit the wall connected to the door and exploded inside the saloon, spreading a rather thick smoke across the room. Falcone eventually stopped firing as soon as the logical part of his mind told his that if he continued, he might just sink the ship.

He lowered his weapon a bit and tried to slow down his breathing as he waited for the smoke to settle. When it did, Falcone got a clearer view of the hallway. Everything was burnt and the bulkhead was filled with dents covered in soot. One thing though; there wasn't a body to be found. Falcone found this strange and worrying as well. He briefly wondered if the explosions were enough to might have disintegrated her.

Away from his view, Batgirl was quite safe and intact. She had wedged herself in that little gap between the door frame and the ceiling. From there, she was never in harm's way and that caused her to release a long sigh of relief.

Falcone must be a bit confused by now. That made it the perfect time to strike. She let herself fall off her perch then twisted her body in mid-air so that she was facing Falcone when she hit the ground. She immediately fished for a batarang from her utility belt and flung it at Falcone's direction. Falcone was in too much of a surprise to react in time before the batarang impacted his slug cannon.

The impact caused the slug cannon to fly out of Falcone's hands and was airborne for a few seconds. Within those few seconds, Batgirl flung another batarang towards the airborne weapon and managed to get the batarang to dig deep into the side, jamming the firing mechanism thereby rendering the gun useless. The slug cannon landed on the floor and Falcone got a good look at the extent of the damage. Needless to say, he was angry about it.

Batgirl, now with the upper hand once again, seized the mobster that was idly standing in the middle of the saloon. Falcone saw her coming and reached for the closest weapon he could find which turned out to be a bottle of beer that was right on top of the bar. He grabbed it and threw it in her direction. Batgirl saw it coming straight for her face so she was forced to stop in her tracks and duck. The beer bottle flew right over her and crashed behind her.

After that little failed attack, Falcone reached for the next nearest thing which, fortunately for him at least, was a more effective weapon: one of the discarded MP5's next to a still unconscious guard. By the time Falcone had grabbed it and turned around to aim at Batgirl, the caped crime fighter had already closed the distance between them.

Falcone stilled tried to aim the MP5 but Batgirl had grabbed it and re-aimed it for him until it pointed in the direction of the bar. Falcone couldn't aim at her but was already pressing down on the trigger so that he ended up wasting all the bullets in the gun on the many bottles that were displayed behind the counter throwing up a hail of broken glass and drinks.

The clip was empty within three seconds and Falcone was once again defenseless. The two wrestled for the gun and eventually Batgirl forced it out of his hands. She then proceeded to wrestle him to the ground which, for her, was pretty easy. The man was not much of a fighter and her experience made her more than a match for him. Falcone was on the floor face-first and Batgirl was sitting on his back and had locked both his arms on his back as well.

"Ready to give up yet?" asked Batgirl.

Falcone wished he could turn his head enough to spit at her. "Go to hell!"

"It's over for you. Forget about coming back from this. Your career ends to night and the poison you spread across the city will be cleansed. You're finished!"

"I will see you hang by the end of this. I swear!"

Batgirl rolled her eyes. "Man, you just never let up, do you?"

By amazing coincidence, that was when the other set of doors burst open and three guards, who seemed to be in a hurry, entered the room. Both Batgirl and Falcone looked up towards the three oblivious thugs that just decided to join the party.

"Boss!" exclaimed the first of the them, "the boats are here, we're ready to…" The guard noticed batgirl for the first time it seemed. "…uh what's going on here?"

The guards stared dumbly at Batgirl who was pinning down their boss to the floor. Apparently, they from the outside perimeter, initially patrolling the outside decks of the ship and watching the ocean, they probably never knew that Batgirl and Red X were in the boat since the two teens snuck inside form the back. Now they were simply clueless about the current situation. However, Falcone soon made it clear what their proper action should be at that moment.

"Shoot her you morons!" he exclaimed.

The guards came to their senses and started to follow the command. Batgirl saw them ready their MP5's and was already leaping off Falcone and looking for cover. She dove across the bar and hid behind it Just as all three men began firing. Bullets pelted the bar but failed to hit the caped crime fighter who was safely crouching behind the bar. In the meantime, Falcone got up and approached the men. He talked to the first one who spoke to him.

"You said that the boats are ready?" he asked him.

The man was reloading his gun when he answered "yes" then continued firing towards the bar. Falcone gave a nod of approval and then told the other two to "take care of her." Soon after which, Falcone and the first guard exited the room while the two remaining guards reloaded and continued firing.

Batgirl, crouched behind the bar and kept there by the hail of gunfire, knew she was in a big pickle and needed to fix the situation quickly. She thought for a moment then seemed to have settled on an option. She reached into her utility belt and pulled out two things: a collapsible breather mask and a large capsule of some kind with the letters, "KO" printed on the side.

Batgirl wore the mask which covered her nose and mouth. She then held the KO capsule in both hands and twisted the ends in opposite directions. A minute crack was heard and she tossed it over her head and the bar. The capsule landed on the floor and the guards didn't see it, being preoccupied with turning the bar into Swiss cheese.

The capsule didn't do anything for a few second but then suddenly began spewing out a thick white smoke that began to cover the room. Only then did the guards notice the thing and turned their attention to it. By the time they were figuring out what that capsule was, the gas had already crept up their nostrils and entered their respiratory system. Seconds later, they were on the floor, catching z's.

By then, there was little wonder what "KO" on the capsule stood for. Batgirl got up from the bar and stood in the middle of the room, safe from the gas's effects due to her breather mask. She took a good look at her handy work. The two guards where knocked out completely and the guards that were already in the there, whom Batgirl and Red X took care of earlier, were probably going to spend a little more time in dreamland. Satisfied, she moved on to chase her quarry.

"This is gonna be a long night," she mumbled.

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Meanwhile, down below again.

Red X and Silencer were exchanging swings, blocks and parries, neither of whom gave the other any breathing space. If Red X was known for anything, it was that he was relentlessness. Was he set he's eyes on a goal, he would usually pursue it to the end. And right then, his goal was to beat the crap of of this mute, emotionless, Scarface wannabe.

Red X threw a wide array of blade strikes at his opponent, swing high then low. Silencer was able to evade most and was forced to block a few close calls. He was amazed by the assassin's tenacity and Red X was pretty sure this guy was not a normal human being. He was probably a meta-human though he can't tell exactly what makes him meta-human in the most technical terms. All he knew was that he could take a beating, as much as he himself can dish out.

Silencer was holding his own quite well. His experience in battle was quite evident. He knew enough styles and moves to keep Red X at bay for the moment, but underneath it all, even though it didn't show in his face, he was quite impressed with the masked thief. No one has ever lasted this long against him before. The thief showed great promise.

Of course, he wasn't really taking the battle seriously. Silencer was not out to kill the Red X. this was nothing but a stalling tactic. Falcone would hold his own for a while against the girl in the bat costume. If Red X had been able to get to him, the plan that was set up would not be accomplished. So here he was, keeping busy a person who he probably considered an ally in very loose form of the term. But once Falcone would act the way Silencer supposed he would act, he would make his real move then.

Silencer also actually didn't want to kill the thief in the first place. He owed a lot to the thief. It was that cocky attitude, lawless philosophy, and ability to completely think for himself without any outside influence. Silencer saw the light right when he got to know the thief and the freedom he enjoyed.

Silencer would've given everything in the world for that kind of freedom. And now, he would have his chance. All he had to do was wait a little longer, wait for them all to fall into place and make off with his own treasures. Still, he was starting to get a bit worried. Red X was getting better and faster with his moves. Silencer wanted to keep the fight going as long as it should but Red X wanted to end it as quickly as he can.

Red X swung high and Silencer ducked low. While crouched, Silencer sweep-kicked Red X and caused him to loose his foot and fall on his back. Silencer sprung up and held his dagger in a way that it pointed down to Red X's body. Silencer brought down the dagger as Red X rolled to the side. The knife drove deep into the floor. Red X flipped himself back up and charged at Silencer.

Silencer pulled his dagger out form the floor just in time to block a swing from the extended x-blades of the crimson thief. Red X swung his other blade at silencer, thinking he caught the assassin off-guard. The blade almost reached Silencer when he grabbed it with his free-hand and stopped it in mid-swing. Red x was amazed that he was able to grasp his blade so tightly with out cutting his skin. Then he thought, maybe it was cutting into his skin and he was ignoring it. Or he actually couldn't feel it.

Silencer pushed aside both of Red X's blades and delivered a swift kick to the chest which caused Red X to fall backwards. The thief managed to recover by anticipating his landing and expertly rolled on his back in a reverse flip. In that time, Silencer charged in with his dagger held high. Red X rolled once on his back and settle in a crouching position. He saw Silencer coming at him and crossed his x-blades above his head to block.

The dagger met the crossed blades and sparks flew for a moment. It was that situation once again where red x was on the receiving end of the fight and he didn't like it. The last time he tried to resolve the situation, the previous method didn't work. Now he tried something else. Red X let himself fall on his back which caught Silencer off-guard. Red X then placed a foot on his enemy's chest and, as they rolled over, kicked him off and sent him flying to the bulk head.

Silencer crashed into the bulk head upside-down and fell on his head. It should have been painful but Silencer didn't show it. Red X flipped himself back up and turned to face the assassin who was just recovering, both his stance, and the fedora hat he lost. Silencer fixed the hat securely to his noggin and got into a ready stance with his dagger held at chest level. Red X prepared himself, knowing what's coming.

Silencer was about to take a lunge at the crimson thief when he noticeably twitched his head. Silencer then stood still as a statue, craning his head as if to hear something. Red X was a little confused and was not foolish enough to just charge in on the very unpredictable foe. Instead, he too craned his head and tried to listen for anything beyond the steady hum of the engine.

The suit had built-in audio amplifiers in the mask so that the wearer could hear a little better and thus give him an advantage in battle. For now, that feature helped Red X determine what Silencer was so interested in. Then, he heard it, motors coming from other boats just outside, really loud, fast-sounding motors. An unexpected turn of events, that much was clear to Red X. were they Falcone's back-up or something, or was it the coast guard, in which case, they would be a little earlier than they had planned.

As soon as Red X turned his head back to Silencer, another rather interesting, and at the same time worrying, turn of events took place. Silencer took a casual stance, twirled his dagger and sheathed it under his suit. He then dusted himself off to fix the creases in his attire, pulled on his scarf to tidy it up, and nonchalantly adjusted his fedora hat.

Silencer looked at Red X dead in the eye, no emotion as usual. Red X couldn't tell whether he should relax or panic. He kept his cool and stayed his stance. But then, Silencer moved his lips as if uttering a word. No voice was heard though. Red X saw the gesture and was a little confused. He knew a little bit about lip reading. And if Red X didn't know better, he could have sworn that the assassin just said "thanks." With that, Silencer casually walked out of the room.

"Hey…wait a minute," called Red X.

Silencer didn't respond and never looked back. He eventually disappeared behind the door and Red X was left alone in the room, dumfounded. It took a while before Red X shook his head to regain his senses and decided that what just happened was probably one mystery best left alone. He decided to concentrate on his original task: to put that damn wrench in the works.

He retracted the blades on his hands and moved to the maintenance hatch he found on the wall earlier and wasted no time in prying it open. He looked inside to find a whole bunch of wiring and other random electronics. It wasn't really the engine but it was good enough. Red X produced a sparking x-taser in one hand and tossed it into the maintenance hatch.

The effect was pretty much what he was going for. As soon as the x-taser hit the wiring, electricity jumped in all directions all over the ship. Everywhere, across the ship, lights blinked on and off. On the bridge, instruments and computer screens went absolutely ballistic. Everything went dark for a moment, then the emergency lights kicked in.

Red X knew he was done here and made his way to the door.

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Outside.

Falcone was on hand with a few guards at the stern of the boat where there were three speedboats currently docked onto the massive yacht. The guards were frantically dumping some black duffel bags onto the trunk spaces of the three speedboats. The crew of the ship, or what few of them who were able to avoid the two costumed teens that took out everyone else, gathered in the stern deck as well, bording the speedboats.

"This one's full!" exclaimed the driver of one of the speedboats.

"Go on ahead," ordered Falcone, dumping another duffel bag on another speedboat. "We'll meet at the designated spot."

The driver nodded and did as he was told. The boat sped off into the night carrying it's cargo of duffel bags and scant crew members. Soon after, another boat followed carrying mostly the last of the crew members and a few duffel bags. All that was left on the stern was Falcone, two of his men, including the driver, and the speedboat.

Falcone loaded the last of the duffel bags and got on board. "They think they've gotten me," he mumble to himself, "they're wrong! I'll have this organization back on its feet in no time."

Falcone boarded the ship along with his two men right after untying the boat from the yacht. "Fire this thing up!" he ordered the driver.

The driver nodded and proceeded to the controls of the boat. But as he reached for the throttle, the driver found himself short of breath. Looking up, he knew why. Silencer was holding him by the neck and choking the life out of him. Silencer also lifted him effortlessly off his seat then tossed him, screaming, back into the ship and slamming into the bulkhead, knocking him out completely.

Hearing the scream and the splash, Falcone and the other guard turned to Silencer who was now facing them. The guard left was the first to act, taking out a small snub revolver from his jacket pocket and aimed it Silencer who was five feet away one second, then up-close and twisting the guard's wrist the next second. The guard dropped his gun and screamed in pain. Silencer finished him off by grabbing his collar and tossed him towards the ship just like the other guard. Crashing into the bulkhead left the guard unconscious.

Now all that was left was the assassin and his boss, Falcone. Falcone was nervous and understandably so. Here was his most reliable assassin whom he used for such a long time now turning against him. Silencer walked slowly towards Falcone and took out his dagger at the same time. Falcone was sweating bullets.

Falcone saw the small revolver on the floor that was dropped by his guard and somehow managed to end up at his feet. He took it and immediately started firing at the assassin in front of him. Silencer stopped in his tracks as the first shot impaled his chest. Falcone continued firing and silencer visible twitched as a shot impacted his body. The revolver was soon empty and Falcone was panting like never before.

Falcone soon went wide-eyed though, Spectacularly, Silencer remained standing tall, his expression unchanged despite the six rather large holes in his attire. Silencer resumed his stride a little quicker this time. Falcone tried to back up but he couldn't do so with ending up in the water as he found out when he looked behind his shoulder. No longer tied to the ship, the speedboat had already drifted a distance away from the ship.

Falcone was trapped. Falcone turned his head forward again and Silencer's face was five inches from his own, at the same time, he felt a hard stinging pain in his chest area. He found that he couldn't breath and his senses were numbing. He felt his skin turn to ice and his muscles turn to stone. Silencer took a big step back to allow Falcone to look down.

Falcone looked down a bit to notice that the dagger was no longer ion Silencer's hand. He looked down further and found it impaled in his chest, its ornate handle gleaming in the moonlight. It was the last thing Falcone ever saw. His vision had failed him by then, along with every other bodily functions and his limp body fell into the ocean on its back. Silencer watched as Falcone's now lifeless corpse floated almost serenely across the dark waters of the bay.

Silencer then turned his attention to the duffel bags Falcone's men had dumped into the boat. He kneeled down and opened one. He looked inside the bag. There were piles of money in it, ranging form tens to hundred dollar bills, all nicely packed into according bricks. He then stood up and counted how many bags there actually were on the boat. There were eight of them. Little doubt what was inside of the rest.

Silencer settled himself into the boats driver seat. He manned the controls like a professional. He was soon on his way as he plotted a different direction from the two other boats that went out ahead. He wasn't too sure about where he was going at the moment, but he knew wherever he was going, things would finally change for him.

As he drove of into the night, Silencer managed the slightest resemblance of a grin.

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Out in the ocean.

The two boats that made it were making good time on their trip. The designated location was just a few miles ahead on the northern side of the coast. There, a fleet of vehicles would be waiting and they would use that to escape the city and start anew. Simple plan and a sane-sounding one too. Still, the driver of the first boat can't help but worry.

The driver of the first boat reached for the radio on the dash board and hailed his fellow craft. "Hey, where's the boss's boat?"

"Hell if I know, man," said the respondent.

"You think we should go back there and check it out or--"

He was interrupted as a hail of gunfire ripped across the nose of his boat and tore through the engine. Everyone onboard almost went into a panic as they all fumbled for their weapons and tried to find the unseen threat. The boat came to a halt in the middle of the ocean soon afterwards as its engine was completely dead at that point.

"Hey!" said the voice on the radio, "what the hell happ--"

The voice was also interrupted by another hail of gunfire which also tore through that boats nose, killing the engine. Both boats were now dead in the water and without the noise of wither engine, the men in the boats could hear a loud, rapid beating of air. A spotlight suddenly shown from the darkness of the sky. Aside from illuminating the two boats that were only a few feet from each other, the residual light from the searchlight revealed their attacker.

It was an AH-64 Longbow Apache gunship, painted in blue and bearing the JCPD badge on its side. It was one of the JCPD's special Cobra squadron which was a side unit of its special crime division, summoned only in very special missions. For now, one of the Cobra's was playing the clean up crew in what could be the biggest drug bust in the city's history.

Though the gunship was not armed with anything more than its machinegun, the occupants of the two disabled boats raised their hands and their armaments in a sign of surrender. There was no way any of them would ever attempt to pick a fight with a gunship in the middle of the ocean.

From inside the gunship's cockpit the pilot and his gunner smiled at this turn of events. The pilot then proceeded to his radio. "Base, this is Cobra Two, mission accomplished, send in the cavalry."

"Roger that, Cobra two. Coast guard are on their way," said the respondent from the other line.

A minute later, Coast guard ships arrived, boarded the two speedboats and arrested everyone onboard. They also confiscated all the weapons the men had and the number of duffel bags that contained all of Falcone's drug money. Once all the men were secured, the coast guard took them ashore for processing.

And just like that, Falcone's organization was finished.

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Back on the _Aphrodite._

Batgirl had just made it outside. She was standing at the stern deck and looked out into the ocean. The sound of distant helicopter blades and gunfire had caught her attention and she took out her binoculars to get a better view of the situation. She could see the apache gunship from the Cobra Squadron that made the JCPD a little famous around the crime-busting world.

The JCPD had arrived just in time as guaranteed by her unusual partner, Red X. She supposed he should know about their punctuality, probably because of the fact that he himself had a little more than a few encounters with the JCPD. The organization was finished from then on. Pocketing away her binoculars and looking down into the water in front of her only gave more supporting evidence to that notion.

Floating lifelessly in the water, illuminated by the ships outdoor lights, was Adrian Falcone. His limbs spread across the surface of the water, his eyes, lifeless and half closed, and his mouth slightly agape. It was one of the most depressing sights Batgirl has ever seen. While she wanted the mobster to fall from grace, she didn't want him to end up like this. She took carefull note of the dagger that was protruding out of his chest.

A moment passed and Red X appeared a few feet to her side. She looked to see him staring at the corpse of Falcone which was already slowly sinking into the ocean. Red X didn't look at her and seemed to be concentrated at the dead mobster. A few more moments passed without anything shared between the two. Red X finally broke the silence.

"Damn…" he said, "…wasn't expecting this."

Batgirl seemed to have accepted that as a valid statement. "Yeah," she said, "looks like it was the Silencer."

Now, Red X looked at her. "Who?"

"The Silencer. An infamous assassin that works for Falcone…up until now, I guess. Look's like the dog finally bit the master's hand. That dagger is his signature weapon, uses it to kill all his victims."

"Why'd he leave it with Falcone then?"

"Probably for some symbolic reason like… I don't know…showing that he finally left his past behind and took another road."

"…Yeah…"

"C'mon, we need to get out of here. I'll take down one of the lifeboats."

Batgirl turned towards a nearby staircase leading to the upper decks and moved to find a lifeboat the two of them can use. Red X turned as well and made to follow her but hesitated slightly. The thief looked out into the ocean towards no particular direction. He stared at the empty waters for a few moments before uttering something.

"You're welcome," he said. Then he followed Batgirl off the boat.

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Later.

After that, everything pretty much went as clockwork. The coast guard brought all the arrested crooks to land where they were taken into custody by the JCPD. The _Aphrodite_ was spotted eventually and the men that were still there were sitting ducks for the coast guard to capture on the count of they were all recovering from being recently knocked out, and that the boat they were on was dead in the water. All of the men where taken to jail and the case on Venus and Falcone's organization will probably be put to a close the next morning.

After the two teens responsible for the down fall of the organization made it to shore unseen by anyone else, Batgirl excused herself prematurely saying that she had other business to take care of and they'll just meet up some time later. That was fine for Red X who himself had another appointment left for the night. Red X moved to the back alley in-between a couple of warehouses on the docks.

In the darkness of that small back alley, a quiet shuffling noise of fabric could be heard. A minute later, and engine sound roared in the alley as Nick Davenport came out the opposite end of the alley, dressed in his casual attire that was highlighted by his dark blue denim jacket, riding his Yamaha YZF-R1. He pulled back his sleeve to look at the watch on his hand. A little past nine.

He grabbed for the helmet that was hanging out the back and put it on. He then rode off into the night.

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Minutes later.

Uptown Jump City, as always, was a pretty lively place even in the latest of the nightly hours. The district was always bustling with activity whether under the sun or under the moon. Here, sitting on a bench right outside the still closed Jump City Museum, dressed in casual attire and holding onto a small gym bag slung over her shoulder to hold her helmet and other essentials, and her hair was fixed in place with a butterfly hairclip, was Tara.

She waited patiently there for a few minutes, taking in the sights of the city's upper district at night. Up until recently, she had never really seen much of the uptown and found a new appreciation for it as she generally started to get the hang of it all. She had Nick to thank for all that. Speaking of whom, Nick pulled up in his bike right in front of the museum. Tara smiled and was already walking up to him when he removed her helmet to get a better look at the girl.

"About time, you showed up," she said in mock annoyance.

"Sorry for being late," he replilied, "the night was rather hectic."

"I bet it was…So, any serious injuries I need to obsess over?"

"No."

"Not even a scratch?"

"Nope."

"Too bad for you. I was ready to shower you with all the nursing care a man could ever hope to receive." She said that in a rather mockingly seductive tone. Nick giggled at the remark, recognizing the humor.

"So," said Nick, "where to?"

"Well, I really like that place down at Oliver street."

"I was hoping you did. C'mon, hop on."

Tara did just that. After she was seated behind Nick she took out her own bike helmet as Nick put back on his own. Nick started the bike back up and was about to ride off when Tara tapped at his shoulder. Nick looked back at Tara who now had a serious face.

"So, tell me," she said, her tone of voice showing how serious she was, "is it over?"

Nick lifted his helmet off completely once again so that he could meet Tara's eyes with his own. "Yeah, it is."

Tara heard nothing in the voice or his eyes to indicate that there was any dishonesty in the answer. Tara seemed satisfied as a soft smile spread across her lips. "That's great…"

Tara then leaned in closer and gave Nick a soft, tender kiss on the lips. Nick returned it eagerly and the two stayed that way for few seconds. After they broke the kiss, they gave each other soft smiles and mutually knew that no more words were needed to be exchanged. Nick put his helmet back on and Tara hugged him tightly from the back. The bike then sped off into the night lights of the city.

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Author's note: Well, that's the last Chapter done! Read the Epilogue, please!


	17. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own jack!

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A few nights later.

On a rare quiet night, Red X was standing stoically on the edge of a high-rise building somewhere. The night breeze was gently flapping his cape and would have chilled the guy had he not been wearing the suit. He seemed to be patiently waiting for something or someone to show up. Eventually, _someone_ did show up.

Looking to the side, Red X noticed Batgirl swinging up towards where he was perched. She launched herself over the roof's edge and landed expertly on the gravel of the roof. She then turned to face Red x fully. Red X himself turned respectfully to her as well.

"Hey," greeted, Batgirl, "how have you been?"

"Just fine," answered Red X plainly but honestly, "Thanks for asking."

"Well, I came here to give my report to you about the city's status."

"Go ahead, shoot."

"Well to start off, the city's pretty much sanitized of Venus and all those affected…well, most of them anyway, are already in rehab. Generally, the city didn't suffer much. Falcone's organization is pretty much acient history with all the accomplices caught and jailed and all their stock cash confiscated except for the bunch that Silencer made off with but I doubt we'll see signs of him anytime soon. And that's about it. Great news, huh?"

"How's the guy of yours?"

"…uh…Huh?"

"When we talked, you said you were after Falcone because he hurt someone you cared about. I'm asking you whether he's okay or not."

Batgirl hesitated to answer, not so much as that she didn't know the answer but more on the fact that the question caught her totally off-guard. "Well…uh…since you asked, I did check in on him this morning and…"

"…And…"

"…I'm happy to say he's made a full recovery by now. He'll back at work in no time at all."

"Glad to hear it."

"Thanks…not just for that, but for everything you've done. If it wasn't for you, I would never have been able to close this case. And also, without you, I never would have seen what a dummy I was at the start of all this…"

Batgirl extended a hand. "Thank you…very much."

Red X took a few steps towards her and took her hand and gave it a firm shake. "Anytime."

They gave each other affirming nods and separated their hands. "So, what are you gonna do now?" asked Red X.

"Well, I'm already packed. I'll be moving back to Gotham soon. Back to the old grind and all that, I guess."

"Well I wish you the best of luck at that. Now if you'll excuse me…"

Red x took a step back then turned around completely and walked to the edge of the rooftop. Batgirl was watching before a question popped in her head and she called out to Red X.

"Hey, wait a minute," she called.

Red X looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"What are _you_ gonna do now?"

Red X paused for a while before answering. "…I'll just do what I do best."

"And what's that?"

"Survive."

Red X raised his hand and shot out a grappling line which hooked itself onto the next building down the road. Red X leapt off with almost poetic grace and swung across the air, hundreds of feet above the bustling city streets. Batgirl walked over to the edge of the roof and watched Red X swing off into the night and gently smiled in admiration.

Red X let himself be lost in the thrill of his flight. He enjoyed deeply the satisfaction of feeling unhindered and with a limitless horizon in front of him. Even as he landed on a nearby roof, he didn't stop. He dashed immediately towards the edge and prepared to leap off once again. He continued to do so with the grace and proficiency of a true spirit of freedom. That was who he was. That was his essence, his entirety, his very meaning that so much people desire but few ever dare to have.

He leapt off edge and continued to fly into the night, forever boundless and free.

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Author's note: For my closing statements, I would like to thank everyone who stuck by me and reviewed this story. All your reviews no matter how much they criticized me or not (A special thanks to Isa Lumitus for that), are all deeply appreciated. Honest! I take all your suggestions to heart and do my best to improve myself based on them.

Well, I'm done with this little train wreck of a project! See you next time!

Peace Out!


End file.
